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Copyright, 1916, by HARPER & BROTHERS 
Printed in the United States of America 



I THE VANISHER . . ... . i 

II THE BLACK BOOK . . . . 15 






IX THE JURY FIXER . . . .107 









XIX THE ESCAPE . . . . 238 


















"TTELLO, Jameson, is Kennedy in?" 

JL JL I glanced up from the evening papers to 
encounter the square-jawed, alert face of District 
Attorney Carton in the doorway of our apartment. 

" How do you do, Judge? " I exclaimed. " No, 
but I expect him any second now. Won't you sit 

The District Attorney dropped, rather wearily I 
thought, into a chair and looked at his watch. 

I had made Carton's acquaintance some years 
before as a cub reporter on the Star while he was a 
judge of an inferior court. Our acquaintance had 
grown through several political campaigns in which 
I had had assignments that brought me into con 
tact with him. More recently some special writing 
had led me across his trail again in telling the story 
of his clean-up of graft in the city. At present his 
weariness was easily accounted for. He was in the 
midst of the fight of his life for re-election against 
the so-called " System," headed by Boss Dorgan, in 


which he had gone far in exposing evils that ranged 
all the way from vice and the drug traffic to bald 
election frauds. 

" I expect a Mrs. Blackwell here in a few min 
utes," he remarked, glancing again at his watch. 
His eye caught the headline of the news story I had 
been reading and he added quickly, " What do the 
boys on the Star think of that Blackwell case, any 

It was, I may say, a case deeply shrouded in mys 
tery the disappearance without warning of a beau 
tiful young girl, Betty Blackwell, barely eighteen. 
Her family, the police, and now the District Attor 
ney had sought to solve it in vain. Some had 
thought it a kidnaping, others a suicide, and others 
had even hinted at murder. All sorts of theories 
had been advanced without in the least changing the 
original dominant note of mystery. 

Photographs of the young woman had been pub 
lished broadcast, I knew, without eliciting a word in 
reply. Young men whom she had known and girls 
with whom she had been intimate had been ques 
tioned without so much as a clue being obtained. 
Reports that she had been seen had come in from 
all over the country, as they always do in such cases. 
All had been investigated and had turned out to be 
based on nothing more than imagination. The mys 
tery remained unsolved. 

" Well," I replied, " of course there's a lot of 
talk now in the papers about aphasia and amnesia 
and all that stuff. But, you know, we reporters are 


a sceptical lot. We have to be shown. I can't say 
we put much faith in that." 

" But what is your explanation ? You fellows 
always have an opinion. Sometimes I think the 
newspapermen are our best detectives." 

" I can't say that we have any opinion in this case 
yet," I returned frankly. " When a girl just sim 
ply disappears on Fifth Avenue and there isn't even 
the hint of a clue as to any place she went or how, 
well oh, there's Kennedy now. Put it up to him." 

" We were just talking of that Betty Blackwell 
disappearance case," resumed Carton, when the 
greetings were over. ' What do you think of it? " 

" Think of it? " repeated Kennedy promptly with 
a keen glance at the District Attorney; " why, Judge, 
I think of it the same as you evidently do. If you 
didn't think it was a case that was in some way con 
nected with your vice and graft investigation, you 
wouldn't be here. And if I didn't feel that it prom 
ised surprising results, aside from the interest I 
always have naturally in solving such mysteries, I 
wouldn't be ready to take up the offer which you 
came here to make." 

' You're a wizard, Kennedy," laughed Carton, 
though it was easily seen that he was both pleased 
and relieved to think that he had enlisted Craig's 
services so easily. 

" Not much of a wizard. In the first place, I 
know the fight you're making. Also, I know that 
you wouldn't go to the police in the present state 
of armed truce between your office and Headquar- 


ters. You want someone outside. Well, I'm more 
than willing to be that person. The whole thing, in 
its larger aspects, interests me. Betty Blackwell in 
particular, arouses my sympathies. That's all." 

" Exactly, Kennedy. This fight I'm in is going 
to be the fight of my life. Just now, in addition to 
everything else, people are looking to me to find 
Betty Blackwell. Her mother was in to see me to 
day; there isn't much that she could add to what 
has already been said. Betty was a most attractive 
girl. The family is an excellent one, but in reduced 
circumstances. She had been used to a great deal 
as a child, but now, since the death of her father, 
she has had to go to work and you know what 
that means to a girl like that." 

Carton laid down a new photograph which the 
newspapers had not printed yet. Betty Blackwell 
was slender, petite, chic. Her dark hair was care 
fully groomed, and there was an air with which she 
wore her clothes and carried herself, even in a por 
trait, which showed that she was no ordinary girl. 

Her soft brown eyes had that magnetic look 
which is dangerous to their owner if she does not 
know how to control it, eyes that arrested one's 
gaze, invited notice. Even the lens must have felt 
the spell. It had caught, also, the soft richness of 
the skin of her oval face and full throat and neck. 
Indeed one could not help remarking that she was 
really the girl to grace a fortune. Only a turn of 
the hand of that fickle goddess had prevented her 
from doing so. 


I had picked up one of the evening papers and 
was looking at the newspaper half-tone which more 
than failed to do justice to her. Just then my eye 
happened on an item which I had been about to 
discuss with Carton when Kennedy entered. 

" As a scientist, does the amnesia theory appeal 
to you, Craig?" I asked. "Now, here is an ex 
planation by one of the special writers, headed, 
* Personalities Lost Through Amnesia.' Listen." 

The article was brief: 

Mysterious disappearances, such as that of Betty 
Blackwell, have alarmed the public and baffled the 
police before this disappearances that have in their 
suddenness, apparent lack of purpose, and inex- 
plicability much in common with her case. 

Leaving out of account the class of disappearances 
for their own convenience embezzlers, blackmail 
ers, and so forth there is still a large number of 
recorded cases where the subjects have dropped out 
of sight without apparent cause or reason and have 
left behind them untarnished reputations and solv 
ent back accounts. Of these, a small percentage 
are found to have met with violence; others have 
been victims of suicidal mania, and sooner or later 
a clue has come to light which has established the 
fact. The dead are often easier to find than the 

Of the remaining small proportion, there are on 
record, however, a number of carefully authenti 
cated cases where the subject has been the victim 
of a sudden and complete loss of memory. 

This dislocation of memory is a variety of aphasia 
known as amnesia, and when the memory is recur- 


rently lost and restored, we have alternating per 
sonality. The Society for Psychical Research and 
many eminent psychologists, among them the late 
William James, Dr. Weir Mitchell, Dr. Hodgson 
of Boston, and Dr. A. E. Osborn of San Francisco, 
have reported many cases of alternating personality. 

Studious efforts are being made to understand 
and to explain the strange type of mental phenomena 
exhibited in these cases, but as yet no one has given a 
clear and comprehensive explanation of them. Such 
cases are by no means always connected with disap 
pearances, and exhaustive studies have been made of 
types of alternating personality that have from first 
to last been carefully watched by scientists of the first 

The variety known as the ambulatory type, where 
the patient suddenly loses all knowledge of his own 
identity and of the past and takes himself off, leav 
ing no trace or clue, is the variety which the present 
case of Miss Blackwell seems to suggest. 

There followed a number of most interesting 
cases and an elaborate argument by the writer to 
show that Betty Blackwell was a victim of this psy 
chological aberration, that she was, in other words, 
" a vanisher." 

I laid down the paper with a questioning look at 

" As a scientist," he replied deliberately, " the 
theory, of course, does appeal to me, especially in 
the ingenious way in which that writer applied it. 
However, as a detective " he shook his head 
slowly " I must deal with facts not speculations. 
It leaves much to be explained, to say the least." 


Just then the door buzzer sounded and Carton 
himself sprang to answer it. 

14 That's Mrs. Blackwell now her mother. I 
told her that I was going to take the case to you, 
Kennedy, and took the liberty of asking her to come 
up here to meet you. Good-afternoon, Mrs. Black- 
well. Let me introduce Professor Kennedy and 
Mr. Jameson, of whom I spoke to you." 

She bowed and murmured a tremulous greeting. 
Kennedy placed a chair for her and she thanked 

Mrs. Blackwell was a slender little woman in 
black, well past middle age. Her face and dress 
spoke of years of economy, even of privation, but 
her manner was plainly that of a woman of gentle 
breeding and former luxury. She was precisely of 
the type of decayed gentlewoman that one meets 
often in the city, especially at some of the middle- 
class boarding-houses. 

Deeply as the disappearance of her daughter 
had affected her, Mrs. Blackwell was facing it 
bravely. That was her nature. One could imagine 
that only when Betty was actually found would this 
plucky little woman collapse. Instinctively, one felt 
that she claimed his assistance in the unequal fight 
she was waging against the complexities of modern 
life for which she had been so ill prepared. 

" I do hope you will be able to find my daughter," 
she began, controlling her voice with an effort. 
" Mr. Carton has been so kind, more than kind, I 
am sure, in getting your aid. The police seem to be 


able to do nothing. They make out reports, put me 
off, tell me they are making progress but they 
don't find Betty." 

There was a tragic pathos in the way she said it. 

" Betty was such a good girl, too," she went on, 
her emotions rising. " Oh, I was so proud of her 
when she got her position down in Wall Street, 
with the broker, Mr. Langhorne." 

" Tell Mr. Kennedy just what you told me of her 
disappearance," put in Carton. 

Again Mrs. Blackwell controlled her feelings. 
"I don't know much about it," she faltered, "but 
last Saturday, when she left the office early, she said 
she was going to do some shopping on Fifth Ave 
nue. I know she went there, did shop a bit, then 
walked on the Avenue several blocks. But after 
that there is no trace of her." 

" You have heard nothing, have no idea where she 
might have gone even for a time? " queried Ken 

He asked it with a keen look at the face of Mrs. 
Blackwell. I recalled, one case where a girl had 
disappeared in which Kennedy had always asserted 
that if the family had been perfectly frank at the 
start much more might have been accomplished in 
unravelling the mystery. 

There was evident sincerity in Mrs. Blackwell as 
she replied quickly, " Absolutely none. Another 
girl from the office was with her part of the time, 
then left her to take the subway. We don't live far 
uptown. It wouldn't have taken Betty long to get 


home, even if she had walked, after that, through a: 
crowded street, too." 

" Of course, she may have met a friend, may 
have gone somewhere with the friend," put in Ken 
nedy, as if trying out the remark to see what effect 
it might have. 

"Where could she go?" asked Mrs. Blackwell 
in nai've surprise, looking at him with a counterpart 
of the eyes we had seen in the picture. " I hope you 
don't think that Betty " 

The little widow was on the verge of tears again 
at the mere hint that her daughter might have had 
friends that were not all, perhaps, that they 
should be. 

Carton came to the rescue. " Miss Blackwell," 
he interposed, ** was a very attractive girl, very. 
She had hosts of admirers, as every attractive girl 
must have. Most of them, all of them, as far as 
Mrs. Blackwell knows and I have been able to find 
out, were young men at the office where she worked, 
or friends of that sort not the ordinary clerk, but 
of the rising, younger, self-made generation. Still, 
they don't seem to have interested her particularly 
as far as I have been able to discover. She merely 
liked them. There is absolutely nothing known to 
point to the fact that she was any different from 
thousands of girls in that respect. She was viva 
cious, full of fun and life, a girl any fellow would 
have been more than proud to take to a dance. 
She was ambitious, I suppose, but nothing more." 

" Betty was not a bad girl," asserted Mrs. Black- 


well vehemently. " She was a good girl. I don't 
" eiieve there was much, in fact anything important, 
on which she did not make me her confidante. Yes, 
she was ambitious. So am I. I have always hoped 
that Betty would bring our family her younger 
sister back to the station where we were before 
the panic wiped out our fortune and killed my hus 
band. That is all." 

" Yes," added Carton, " nothing at all is known 
that would make one think that she was what young 
men call a ' good fellow ' with them." 

Kennedy looked up, but said nothing. I thought 
I could read the unspoken word on his lips, as he 
glanced from Carton to Mrs. Blackwell, " known." 

She had risen and was facing us. 

" Is there no one in all this great city," appealed 
the distracted little woman with outstretched arms, 
" who can find my daughter? Is it possible that a 
girl can disappear in broad daylight in the streets 
and never be heard of again? Oh, won't you find 
her? Tell me she is safe that she is still the little 
girl I " 

Her voice failed and she was crying softly in her 
lace handkerchief. It was touching and I saw that 
Kennedy was deeply moved, although at once to his 
practical mind the thought must have occurred that 
nothing was to be gained by further questions of 
Mrs. Blackwell. 

" Believe me, Mrs. Blackwell," he said in a low 
tone, taking her hand, " I will do all that is in my 
power to find her." 


" Thank you," murmured the mother, overcome. 

A moment later, however, she had recovered her 
composure to some degree and rose to go. There 
was a flattering look of relief on her face which in 
itself must have been ample reward to Craig, a re 
tainer worth more to him in a case like this than 

" I'm going back to my office," remarked Carton. 
" If I learn anything, I shall let you know." 

The District Attorney went out with Mrs. Black- 
well. Busy as he was, he had time to turn aside to 
help this bereaved woman, and I admired him for it. 

" Do you think it is one of those cases like some 
that Carton has uncovered on the East Side and 
among girls newly arrived in the city?" I asked 
Craig when the door was shut. 

" Can't say," he returned, in an abstracted study. 

" It's awful if it is," I pursued. " And if it is, I 
suppose all that will result from it will be a momen 
tary thrill of the newspaper-readers, and then they 
will fall back on the old saying that after all it is 
only a result of human nature that such things hap 
pen they always have happened and always will 
that old line of talk." 

' That sort of thing is not a result of human 
nature," returned Kennedy earnestly. " It's a Sys 
tem. I mean to say that if it should turn out to be 
connected with the vice investigations of Carton, and 
not a case of aphasia, such a disappearance you 
would find to be due to the persistent, cunning, and 
unprincipled exploitation of young girls. 


" No, Walter, it is not that women are weak or 
that men are inherently vicious. That doesn't ac 
count for a case like this. Then, too, some mawk 
ish people to-day are fond of putting the whole evil 
on low wages as a cause. It isn't that alone. It 
isn't even lack of education or of moral training. 
Human nature is not so bad in the mass as some 
good people think. No, don't you, as a reporter, see 
it? It is big business, in its way, that Carton is 
fighting big business in the commercialized ruin 
of girls, such, perhaps, as Betty Blackwell a vicious 
system that enmeshes even those who are its tools. 
I'm glad if I can have a chance to help smash it. 

" Now, I'll tell you what I want you to do, just 
so that we can start this thing with a clear under 
standing of what it amounts to. I want you to look 
up just what the situation is. I know there is an 
army of ' vanishers ' in New York. I want to know 
something about them in the mass. Can't you dig 
up something from your Star connections?" 

Kennedy had some matters concerning other cases 
to clear up before he felt free to devote his whole 
time to this. As there was nothing we could do im 
mediately, I spent some time getting at the facts he 
wanted. Indeed, it did not take me long to discover 
that the disappearance of Betty Blackwell, in spite 
of the prominence it had been given, was by no 
means an isolated case. I found that the Star alone 
had chronicled scores of such disappearances during 
the past few months, cases of girls who had simply 
been swallowed up in the big city. They were the 


daughters of neither the rich nor of the poor, most 
of them, but girls rather in ordinary circumstances. 

Even the police records showed upward of a thou 
sand missing young girls, ranging in age from four 
teen to twenty-one years and I knew that the police 
lists scarcely approximated the total number of miss 
ing persons in the great city, especially in those 
cases where a hesitancy on the part of parents and 
relatives often concealed the loss from public 

I came away with the impression that there were 
literally hundreds of cases every bit as baffling as 
that of Betty Blackwell, of young girls who had left 
absolutely no trace behind, who had made no prepa 
rations for departure and of whom few had been 
heard from since they disappeared. Many from 
homes of refinement and even high financial stand 
ing had disappeared, leaving no clues behind. It 
was not alone the daughters of the poor that were 
affected it was all society. 

Many reasons, I found, had been assigned for the 
disappearances. I knew that there must be many 
causes at work, that no one cause could be responsi 
ble for all or perhaps a majority of the cases. 
There were suicides and murders and elopements, 
family troubles, poverty, desire for freedom and 
adventure; innumerable complex causes, even down 
to kidnapping. 

The question was, however, which of these causes 
had been in operation in the case of Betty Black- 
well? Where had she gone? Where had this 


whole army of vanishers disappeared? Were these 
disappearances merely accidents or was there an 
epidemic of amnesia? I could bring myself to no 
such conclusions, but was forced to answer my own 
queries in lieu of an answer from Kennedy, by pro 
pounding another. Was there an organized band? 
And, after I had tried to reason it all out, I still 
found myself back at the original question, as I 
rejoined Kennedy at the laboratory, " Where had 
they all where had Betty Blackwell gone ? " 



I HAD scarcely finished pouring out my suspicions 
to Kennedy when the telephone rang. 

It was Carton on the wire, in a state of unsup- 
pressed excitement. Kennedy answered the call 
himself, but the conversation was brief and, to me, 
unenlightening, until he hung up the receiver. 

" Dorgan the Boss," he exclaimed, " has just 
found a detectaphone in his private dining-room at 

At once I saw the importance of the news and for 
the moment it obscured even the case of Betty 

Dorgan was the political boss of the city at that 
time, apparently entrenched, with an organization 
that seemed impregnable. I knew him as a big, bull- 
necked fellow, taciturn to the point of surliness, 
owing his influence to his ability to " deliver the 
goods " in the shape of graft of all sorts, the arch 
enemy of Carton, a type of politician who now is 
rapidly passing. 

" Carton wants to see us immediately at his 
office," added Craig, jamming his hat on his head. 
" Come on." 

Without waiting for further comment or answer 



from me, Kennedy, caught by the infectious excite 
ment of Carton's message, dashed from our apart 
ment and a few minutes later we were whirling 
downtown on the subway. 

" You know, I suppose," he whispered rather 
hoarsely above the rumble and roar of the train, but 
so as not to be overheard, " that Dorgan always has 
kept a suite of rooms at Gastron's, on Fifth Avenue, 
for dinners and conferences." 

I nodded. Some of the things that must have 
gone on in the secret suite in the fashionable restau 
rant I knew would make interesting reading, if the 
walls had ears. 

" Apparently he must have found out about the 
eavesdropping in time and nipped it," pursued Ken 

"What do you mean?" I asked, for I had not 
been able to gather much from the one-sided con 
versation over the telephone, and the lightning 
change from the case of Betty Blackwell to this had 
left me somewhat bewildered. " What has he 

" Smashed the transmitter of the machine," re 
plied Kennedy tersely. " Cut the wires." 

" Where did it lead? " I asked. " How do you 

Kennedy shook his head. Either he did not 
know, yet, or he felt that the subway was no place 
in which to continue the conversation beyond the 
mere skeleton that he had given me. 

We finished the ride in comparative silence and 


hurried into Carton's office down in the Criminal 
Courts Building. 

Carton greeted us cordially, with an air of in 
tense relief, as if he were glad to have been able to 
turn to Kennedy in the growing perplexities that 
beset him. 

What surprised me most, however, was that, 
seated beside his desk, in an easy chair, was a strik 
ing looking woman, not exactly young, but of an 
age that is perhaps more interesting than youth, 
certainly more sophisticated. She, too, I noticed, 
had a tense, excited expression on her face. As 
Kennedy and I entered she had looked us over 

" Let me present Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Jame 
son, Mrs. Ogleby," said Carton quickly. " Both 
of them know as much about how experts use those 
little mechanical eavesdroppers as anyone except 
the inventor." 

We bowed and waited for an explanation. 

* You understand," continued Carton slowly to 
us in a tone that enjoined secrecy, " Mrs. Ogleby, 
who is a friend of Mr. Murtha, Dorgan's right-hand 
man, naturally is alarmed and doesn't want her 
name to appear in this thing." 

"Oh it is terrible terrible," Mrs. Ogleby 
chimed in in great agitation. " I don't care about 
anything else. But, my reputation it will be ruined 
if they connect my name with the case. As soon as 
I heard of it I thought of you, Mr. Carton. I 
came here immediately. There must be some way 


in which you can protect me some way that you 

can get along without using " 

" But, my dear Mrs. Ogleby," interrupted the 
District Attorney, " I have told you half a dozen 
times, I think, that I didn't put the detectaphone 

in " 

* Yes, but you will get the record," she per 
sisted excitedly. " Can't you do something? " she 

I fancied that she said it with the air of one who 
almost had some right in the matter. 

" Mrs. Ogleby," reiterated Carton earnestly, " I 
will do all I can on my word of honour to protect 

your name, but " 

He paused and looked at us helplessly. 

; ' What was it that was overheard? " asked Craig 

point-blank, watching Mrs. Ogleby's face carefully. 

'* Why," she replied nervously, " there was a big 

dinner last night which Mr. Dorgan gave at Gas- 

tron's. Mr. Murtha took me and oh there were 

lots of others " She stopped suddenly. 

' Yes," prompted Kennedy. " Who else was 

She was on her guard, however. Evidently she 
had come to Carton for one purpose and that was 
solely to protect herself against the scandal which 
she thought might attach to having been present at 
one of the rather notorious little affairs of the Boss. 
" Really," she answered, colouring slightly, " I 
can't tell you. I mustn't say a word about who was 
there or anything about it. Good heavens it is 


bad enough as it is to think that my name may be 
dragged into politics and all sorts of false stories 
set in motion about me. You must protect me, Mr. 
Carton, you must." 

" How did you find out about the detectaphone 
being there? " asked Kennedy. 

" Why," she replied evasively, " I thought it 
was just an ordinary little social dinner. That's 
what Mr. Murtha told me it was. I didn't think 
anyone outside was interested in it or in who was 
there or what went on. But, this morning, a a 
friend called me up and told me something that 
made me think others besides those invited knew of 
it, knew too much." 

She paused, then resumed hastily to forestall 
questioning, " I began to think it over myself, and 
the more I thought of it, the stranger it seemed that 
anyone else, outside, should know. I began to won 
der how it leaked out, for I understood that it was 
a strictly private affair. I asked Mr. Murtha and 
he told Mr. Dorgan. Mr. Dorgan at once guessed 
that there had been something queer. He looked 
about his rooms there, and, sure enough, they found 
the detectaphone concealed in the wall. I can't tell 
any more," she added, facing Carton and using her 
bewitching eyes to their best advantage. " I can't 
ask you to shield Mr. Dorgan and Mr. Murtha. 
They are your opponents. But I have done noth 
ing to you, Mr. Carton. You must suppress that 
part of it about me. Why, it would ruin " 

She cut her words short. But I knew what she 


meant, and to a certain extent I could understand, 
if not sympathize with her. Her husband, Martin 
Ogleby, club-man and man about town, had a repu 
tation none too savoury. But, man-like, I knew, he 
would condone not even the appearance of any 
thing that caused gossip in his wife's actions. I 
could understand how desperate she felt. 

" But, my dear lady," repeated Carton, in a man 
ner that showed that he felt keenly, for some reason 
or other, the appeal she was making to him, " must 
I say again that I had nothing whatever to do with 
it? I have sent for Mr. Kennedy and " 

"Nothing on your honour?" she asked, facing 
him squarely. 

" Nothing on my honour," he asserted frankly. 

She appeared to be dazed. Apparently all along 
she had assumed that Carton must be the person to 
see, that he alone could do anything for her, would 
do something. 

Her face paled as she met his earnest look. She 
had risen and now, half chagrined, half frightened, 
she stood irresolute. Her lips quivered and tears 
stood in her eyes as she realized that, instead of 
protecting herself by her confidence, she had, per 
haps, made matters worse by telling an outsider. 

Carton, too, had risen and in a low voice which 
we could not overhear was trying to reassure her. 

In her confusion she was moving toward the 
door, utterly oblivious, now, to us. Carton tact 
fully took her arm and led her to a private entrance 
that opened from his office down the corridor and 


out of sight of the watchful eyes of the reporters 
and attendants in the outer hall. 

I did not understand just what it was all about, 
but I could see Kennedy's eye following Carton 

"What was that a plant?" he asked, still try 
ing to read Carton's face, as he returned to us alone 
a moment later. " Did she come to see whether 
you got the record? " 

" No I don't think so," replied Carton quickly. 
" No, I think that was all on the level her part 
of it." 

" But who did put in the instrument, really did 
you?" asked Kennedy, still quizzing. 

" No," exclaimed Carton hastily, this time meet 
ing Craig's eye frankly. " No. I wish I had. Why 
the fact is, I don't know who did no one seems 
to know, yet, evidently. But," he added, leaning 
forward and speaking rapidly, " I think I could 
give a shrewd guess." 

Kennedy said nothing, but nodded encouragingly. 

" I think," continued Carton impressively, " that 
it must have been Langhorne and the Wall Street 
crowd he represents." j 

" Langhorne," repeated Kennedy, his mind 
working rapidly. " Why, it was his stenographer 
that Miss Blackwell was. Why do you suspect 
Langhorne? " 

" Because," exclaimed Carton, more excited than 
ever at Kennedy's quick deduction, bringing his fist 
down on the desk to emphasize his own suspicion, 


" because they aren't getting their share of the graft 
that Dorgan is passing out probably are sore, and 
think that if they can get something on the Boss or 
some of those who are close to him, they may force 
him to take them into partnership in the deals." 

Carton looked from Kennedy to me, to see what 
impression his theory made. On me at least it did 
make an impression. Hartley Langhorne, I knew, 
was a Wall Street broker and speculator who dealt 
in real estate, securities, in fact in anything that 
would appeal to a plunger as promising a quick and 
easy return. 

Kennedy made no direct comment on the theory. 
" In what shape is the record, do you suppose? " he 
asked merely. 

" I gathered from Mrs. Ogleby," returned Car 
ton watchfully, " that it had been taken down by a 
stenographer at the receiving end of the detecta- 
phone, transcribed in typewriting, and loosely bound 
in a book of limp black leather. Oh," he concluded, 
" Dorgan would give almost anything to find out 
what is in that little record, you may be sure. Per 
haps even, rather than have such a thing out, he 
would come to terms with Langhorne." 

Kennedy said nothing. He was merely absorb 
ing the case as Carton presented it. 

"Don't you see?" continued the District Attor 
ney, pacing his office and gazing now and then out 
of the window, " here's this record hidden away 
somewhere in the city. If I could only get it I'd 
win my fight against Dorgan and Mrs. Ogleby 


need not suffer for her mistake in coming to me, 
at all." 

He was apparently thinking aloud. Kennedy did 
not attempt to quiz him. He was considering the 
importance of the situation. For, as I have said, it 
was at the height of the political campaign in which 
Carton had been renominated independently by the 
Reform League of which, more later. 

" You don't think that Langhorne is really in the 
inner ring, then? " questioned Craig. 

" No, not yet." 

" Well, then," I put in hastily, " can't you ap 
proach him or someone close to him, and get " 

" Say," interrupted Carton, " anything that took 
place in that private dining-room at Gastron's would 
be just as likely to incriminate Langhorne and some 
of his crowd as not. It is a difference in degree of 
graft that is all. They don't want an open fight. 
It was just a piece of finesse on Langhorne's part. 
You may be sure of that. No, neither of them 
wants a fight. That's the last thing. They're both 
afraid. What Langhorne wanted was a line on 
Dorgan. And we should never have known any 
thing about this Black Book, if some of the women, 
I suppose, hadn't talked too much. Mrs. Ogleby 
added two and two and got five. She thought it 
must be I who put the instrument in." 

Carton was growing more and more excited 

again, " It's exasperating," he continued. 

' There's the record somewhere if I could only 

get it. Think of it, Kennedy an election going on 


and never so much talk about graft and vice be 

" What was in the book mostly, do you im 
agine?" asked Craig, still imperturbable. 

Carton shrugged his shoulders. " Oh, almost 
anything. For instance, you know, Dorgan has 
just put through a new scheme of city planning 
with the able assistance of some theoretical re 
formers. That will be a big piece of real estate 
graft, unless I am mistaken. Langhorne and his 
crowd know it. They don't want to be frozen out." 

As they talked, I had been revolving the thing 
over in my head. Dorgan's little parties, as re 
ported privately among the men on the Star whom 
I knew, were notorious. The more I considered, 
the more possible phases of the problem I thought 
of. It was not even impossible that in some way it 
might bear on the Betty Blackwell case. 

" Do you think Dorgan and Murtha are hunting 
the book as anxiously as some others?" I ven 

" You have heard of the character of some of 
those dinners?" answered Carton by asking an 
other question, then went on : " Why, Dorgan has 
had some of our leading lawyers, financiers, and 
legislators there. He usually surrounds them with 
brilliant, clever women, as unscrupulous as himself, 
and well you can imagine the result. Poor little 
Mrs. Ogleby," he added sympathetically. " They 
could twist her any way they chose for their pur 


My own impression had been that Mrs. Ogleby 
was better able to take care of herself than his 
words gave her credit for, but I said nothing. 

Carton paused before the window and gazed out 
at the Bridge of Sighs that led from his building 
across to the city prison. 

" What a record that Black Book must hold! " he 
exclaimed meditatively. " Why, if it was only that 
I could ' get ' Murtha I'd be happy," he added, 
turning to us. 

Murtha, as I have said, was Boss Dorgan's right 
bower, a clever and unscrupulous politician and 
leader in a district where he succeeded somehow or 
other in absolutely crushing opposition. I had run 
across him now and then in the course of my news 
paper career and, aside from his well-known char 
acter in delivering the " goods " to the organization 
whenever it was necessary, I had found him a most 
interesting character. 

It was due to such men as Murtha that the or 
ganization kept its grip, though one wave of reform 
after another lashed its fury on it. For Murtha un 
derstood his people. He worked at politics every 
hour whether it was patting the babies of the dis 
trict on the head, or bailing their fathers out of jail, 
handing out shoes to the shiftless or judiciously dis 
tributing coal and ice to the deserving. 

Yet I had seen enough to know the inherent 
viciousness of the circle of how the organization 
took dollars from the people with one concealed 
hand and distributed pennies from the other hand, 


held aloft and in the spotlight. Again and again, 
Kennedy and I in our excursions into scientific war 
fare on crime in the underworld had run squarely up 
against the refined as well as the debased creatures 
of the " System." Pyramided on what looked like 
open-handed charity and good-fellowship we had 
seen vice and crime of all degrees. 

And yet, somehow or other, I must confess to a 
sort of admiration for Murtha and his stamp if 
for nothing else than because of the frankness with 
which he did what he sought to do. Neither Ken 
nedy nor I could be accused of undue sympathy with 
the System, yet, like many who had been brought 
in close contact with it, it had earned our respect in 
many ways. 

And so, I contemplated the situation with more 
than ordinary interest. Carton wanted the Black 
Book to use in order to win his political fight for a 
clean city and to prosecute the grafters. Dorgan 
wanted it in order to suppress and thus protect him 
self and Murtha. Mrs. Ogleby wanted it to save 
her good name and prevent even the appearance of 
scandal. Langhorne wanted it in order to coerce 
Dorgan to share in the graft, yet was afraid of 
Carton also. 

Was ever a situation of such peculiar, mixed 

" I would move heaven and earth for that Black 
Book ! " exclaimed Carton finally, turning from the 
window and facing us. 

Kennedy, too, had risen. 


' You can count on me, then, Carton," he said 
simply, as the recollection of the many fights in 
which we had stood shoulder to shoulder with the 
young District Attorney came over him. 

A moment later Carton had us each by the hand. 
' Thank you," he cried. " I knew you fellows 
would be with me." 


IT was late that night that Kennedy and I left 
Carton after laying out a campaign and setting 
in motion various forces, official and unofficial, 
which might serve to keep us in touch with what 
Dorgan and the organization were doing. 

Not until the following morning, however, did 
anything new develop in such a way that we could 
work on it. 

Kennedy had picked up the morning papers 
which had been left at the door of our apartment 
and was hastily running his eye over the headlines 
on the first page, as was his custom. 

" By Jove, Walter," I heard him exclaim. 
" What do you think of that a robbery below the 
deadline and in Langhorne's office, too." 

I hurried out of my room and glanced at the 
papers, also. Sure enough, there it was : 


Door Into Office of Langhorne & Westlake, 
Brokers, Forced and Safe Robbed. 

One of the strangest robberies ever perpetrated 
was pulled off last night in the office of Langhorne 



& Westlake, the brokers, at Wall Street, some 

time during the regular closing time of the office and 
eight o'clock. 

Mr. Langhorne had returned to his office after 
dining with some friends in order to work on some 
papers. When he arrived, about eight o'clock, he 
found that the door had been forced. The office 
was in darkness, but when he switched on the lights 
it was discovered that the office safe had been 

Nothing was said about the manner in which the 
safe robbery was perpetrated, but it is understood 
to have been very peculiar. So far no details have 
been announced and the robbery was not reported 
to the police until a late hour. 

Mr. Langhorne, when seen by the reporters, 
stated positively that nothing of great value had 
been taken and that the firm would not suffer in any 
way as a result of the robbery. 

One of the stenographers in the office, Miss Betty 
Blackwell, who acted as private secretary to Mr. 
Langhorne, is missing and the case has already at 
tracted wide attention. Whether or not her dis 
appearance had anything to do with the robbery is 
not known. 

" Naturally he would not report it to the police," 
commented Kennedy; "that is, if it had anything 
to do with that Black Book, as I am sure that it must 
have had." 

" It was certainly a most peculiar affair if it did 
not," I remarked. " There must be some way of 
finding that out. It's strange about Betty Black- 

Kennedy was turning something over in his mind. 


" Of course," he remarked, " we don't want to 
come out into the open just yet, but it would be in 
teresting to know what happened down there at 
Langhorne's. Have you any objection to going 
down with me and posing as a reporter from the 

" None whatever," I returned. 

We stopped at the laboratory on the campus of 
the University where Craig still retained his pro 
fessorship. Kennedy secured a rather bulky piece 
of apparatus, which, as nearly as I can describe, 
consisted of a steel frame, which could be attached 
by screws to any wooden table. It contained a lower 
plate which could move forward and back, two 
lateral uprights stiffened by curved braces, and a 
cross piece of steel attached by strong bolts to the 
tops of the posts. In the face of the machine was 
a dial with a pointer. 

Kennedy quickly took the apparatus apart and 
made it up into two packages so that between us 
we could carry it easily, and at about the time that 
Wall Street offices were opening we were on our 
way downtown. 

Langhorne proved to be a tall, rather slim, man 
of what might be called youngish middle age. One 
did not have to be introduced to him to read his 
character or his occupation. Every line of his fault 
lessly fitting clothes and every expression of his keen 
and carefully cared-for face betokened the plunger, 
the man who lived by his wits and found the pro 
cess both fascinating and congenial. 


" Mr. Langhorne," began Kennedy, after I had 
taken upon myself the duty of introducing ourselves 
as reporters, " we are preparing an article for our 
paper about a new apparatus which the Star has 
imported especially from Paris. It is a machine 
invented by Monsieur Bertillon just before he died, 
for the purpose of furnishing exact measurements 
of the muscular efforts exerted in the violent entry 
of a door or desk by making it possible to repro 
duce the traces of the work that a burglar has left on 
doors and articles of furniture. We've been wait 
ing for a case that the instrument would fit into and 
it seemed to us that perhaps it might be of some 
use to you in getting at the real robber of your 
office. Would you mind if we made an attempt to 
apply it?" 

Langhorne could not very well refuse to allow us 
to try the thing, though it was plainly evident that 
he did not want to talk and did not relish the pub 
licity that the news of the morning had brought 

Kennedy had laid the apparatus down on a table 
as he spoke and was assembling the parts which 
he had separated in order to carry it. 

' These are the marks on the door, I presume? " 
he continued, examining some indentations of the 
woodwork near the lock. 

Langhorne assented. 

" The door was open when you returned? " asked 

" Closed," replied Langhorne briefly. " Before I 


put the key into the lock, I turned the knob, as I 
have a habit of doing. Instead of catching, it 
yielded and the door swung open without any 

He repeated the story substantially as we had 
already read it in the papers. 

Kennedy had taken a step or two into the office, 
and was now facing the safe. It was not a large 
safe, but was one of the most modern construction 
and was supposed to be burglar proof. 

"And you say you lost practically nothing?" 
persisted Craig. 

" Nothing of importance," reiterated Lang- 

Kennedy had been watching him closely. The 
man was at least baffling. There was nothing ex 
cited or perturbed about his manner. Indeed, one 
might easily have thought that it was not his safe at 
all that had been robbed. I wondered whether, 
after all, he had had the Black Book. Certainly, I 
felt, if he had lost it he was very cool about the 

Craig had by this time reached the safe itself. 
In spite of Langhorne's reluctance, his assurance 
had taken Kennedy even up to the point which he 
wished. He was examining the safe. 

On the front it showed no evidence of having 
been " souped " or drilled. There was not a mark 
on it. Nor, as we learned later from the police, 
was there any evidence of a finger-print having been 
left by the burglar. 


Langhorne now but ill concealed his interest. It 
was natural, too, for here he had one of the most 
modern of small strong-boxes, built up of the latest 
chrome steel and designed to withstand any rea 
sonable assault of cracksman or fire. 

I was on the point of inquiring how on earth it 
had been possible to rob the safe, when Kennedy, 
standing on a chair, as Langhorne directed, uttered 
a low exclamation. 

I craned my neck to look also. 

There, in the very top of the safe, yawned a huge 
hole large enough to thrust one's arm through, with 
something to spare. 

As I looked at the yawning dark hole in the top 
of what had been only a short time ago a safe 
worthy of the latest state of the art, it seemed in 

Try as I could to reason it out, I could find no 
explanation. How it had been possible for a burg 
lar to make such an opening in the little more than 
two hours between closing and the arrival of Lang 
horne after dinner, I could not even guess. As far 
as I knew it would have taken many long hours of 
patient labour with the finest bits to have made any 
thing at all comparable to the destruction which we 
saw before us. 

A score of questions were on my lips, but I said 
nothing, although I could not help noticing the 
strange look on Langhorne's face. It plainly 
showed that he would like to have known what had 
taken place during the two or more hours when his 


office had been unguarded, yet was averse to betray 
ing any such interest. 

Mystified as I was by what I saw, I was even more 
amazed at the cool manner in which Kennedy passed 
it all by. 

He seemed merely to be giving the hole in the 
top of the safe a passing glance, as though it was of 
no importance that someone should have in such an 
incredibly short time made a hole through which one 
might easily reach his arm and secure anything he 
wanted out of the interior of the powerful little 

Langhorne, too, seemed surprised at Kennedy's 
matter of fact passing by of what was almost be 
yond the range of possibility. 

" After all," remarked Kennedy, " it is not the 
safe that we care to study so much as the door. 
For one thing, I wai.t to make sure whether the 
marks show a genuine breaking and entering or 
whether they were placed there afterwards merely 
to cover the trail, supposing someone had used a 
key to get into the office." 

The remark suggested many things to me. Was 
it that he meant to imply that, after all, the missing 
Betty Blackwell had had something to do with it? 
In fact, could the thing have been done by a 
woman ? 

" Most persons," remarked Craig, as he studied 
the marks on the door, " don't know enough about 
jimmies. Against them an ordinary door-lock or 
window-catch is no protection. With a jimmy 


eighteen inches long, even an anemic burglar can 
exert a pressure sufficient to lift two tons. Not one 
door-lock in ten thousand can stand this strain. 
It's like using a hammer to kill a fly. Really, the 
only use of locks is to keep out sneak thieves and to 
compel the modern, scientific educated burglar to 
make a noise. This fellow, however, was no sneak 

He continued to adjust the machine which he had 
brought. Langhorne watched minutely, but did not 
say anything. 

" Bertillon used to call this his mechanical burg 
lar detector," continued Kennedy. " As you see, 
this frame carries two dynamometers of unequal 
power. The stronger, which has a high maximum 
capacity of several tons, is designed for the meas 
urement of vertical efforts. The other measures 
horizontal efforts. The test is made by inserting 
the end of a jimmy or other burglar's tool and en 
deavouring to produce impressions similar to those 
which have been found on doors or windows. The 
index of the dynamometer moves in such a way as 
to make a permanent record of the pressure ex 
erted. The horizontal or traction dynamometer 
registers the other component of pressure." 

He pressed down on the machine. " There was 
a pressure here of considerably over two tons," he 
remarked at length, " with a very high horizontal 
traction of over four hundred pounds. What I 
wanted to get at was whether this could have been 
done by a man, woman, or child, or perhaps by sev- 


eral persons. In this case, it was clearly no mere 
fake to cover up the opening of the door by a key. 
It was a genuine attempt. Nor could it have been 
done by a woman. No, that is the work of a man, a 
powerful man, too, accustomed to the use of the 

I fancied that a shade of satisfaction crossed the 
otherwise impassive face of Langhorne. Was it 
because the Bertillon dynamometer appeared at 
first sight to exonerate Betty Blackwell, at least so 
far, from any connection with the crime? It was 
difficult to say. 

Important though it was, however, to clear up at 
the start just what sort of person was connected 
with the breaking of the door I could not but feel 
that Kennedy had some purpose in deferring and 
minimizing for the present what, to me at least, was 
the greater mystery, the entering of the safe itself. 

He was still studying and comparing the marks 
on the door and the record made on the dyna 
mometer, when the office telephone rang and Lang 
horne was summoned to answer it. Instead of 
taking the call in his own office, he chose to answer 
it at the switchboard, perhaps because that would 
allow him to keep an eye also on us. 

Whatever his purpose, it likewise enabled us to 
keep an ear on him, and it was with surprise which 
both Kennedy and I had great difficulty in conceal 
ing, that we heard him reply, " Hello yes oh, 
Mrs. Ogleby, good-morning. How are you? 
That's good. So you, too, read the papers. No, I 


haven't lost anything of importance, thank you. 
Nothing serious, you know. The papers like to get 
hold of such things and play them up. I have a 
couple of reporters here now. Heaven knows what 
they are doing, but I can foresee some more unpaid 
advertising for the firm in it. Thank you again 
for your interest. You haven't forgotten the studio 
dance I'm giving on the twelfth? No that's fine. 
I hope you'll come, even if Martin has another en 
gagement. Fine. Well good-bye." 

He hung up the receiver with a mingled air of 
gratification and exasperation, I fancied. 

"Haven't you fellows finished yet?" he asked 
finally, coming over to us, a little brusquely. 

" Just about," returned Kennedy, who had by 
this time begun slowly to dismember and pack up 
the dynamometer, determined to take advantage of 
every minute both to observe Langhorne and to fix 
in his mind the general lay-out of the office. 

" Everybody seems to be interested in me this 
morning," he observed, for the moment forgetting 
the embargo he had imposed on his own words. 

As for myself, I saw at once that others besides 
ourselves were keenly interested in this robbery. 

' There," remarked Kennedy when at last he had 
finished packing up the dynamometer into two pack 
ages. " At least, Mr. Langhorne, you have the 
satisfaction of knowing that it was in all probability 
a man, a strong man, and one experienced in forcing 
doors who succeeded in entering your office during 
your brief absence last night." 


Langhorne shrugged his shoulders non-commit- 
tally, but it was evident that he was greatly relieved 
and he could not conceal his interest in what Ken 
nedy was doing, even though he had succeeded in 
conveying the impression that it was a matter of 
indifference to him. 

" I suppose you keep a great many of your val 
uable papers in safety deposit vaults," ventured 
^Kennedy, finishing up the wrapping of the two 
packages, " as well as your personal papers perhaps 
at home." 

He made the remark in a casual manner, but 
Langhorne was too keen to fall into the trap. 

" Really," he said with an air of finality, " I must 
decline to be interviewed at present. Good-day, 

" A slippery customer," was Craig's comment 
when we reached the street outside the office. " By 
the way, evidently Mrs. Ogleby is leaving no stone 
unturned in her effort to locate that Black Book 
and protect herself." 

I said nothing. Langhorne's manner, self-confi 
dent to the point of bravado, had baffled me. I 
began to feel that even if he had lost the detecta- 
phone record, his was the nature to carry out the 
bluff of still having it, in much the same manner that 
he would have played the market on a shoestring or 
made the most of an unfilled four-card flush in a 
game of poker. 

Kennedy was far from being discouraged, how 
ever. Indeed, it seemed as if he really enjoyed 


matching his wit against the subtlety of a man like 
Langhorne, even more than against one the type of 
Dorgan and Murtha. 

" I want to see Carton and I don't want to carry 
these bundles all over the city," he remarked, 
changing the subject for the moment, as he turned 
into a public pay station. " I'll ring him up and 
have him meet us at the laboratory, if I can." 

A moment later he emerged, excited, perspiring 
from the closeness of the telephone booth. 

" Carton has some news a letter that's all he 
would say," he exclaimed. " He'll meet us at the 

We hastily resumed our uptown journey. 

"What do you think it is?" I asked. "About 
Betty Blackwell?" 

Kennedy shook his head non-committally. " I 
don't know. But he has some of his county detec- 
tives watching Dorgan and Murtha in that Black 
Book case, I know. They are worried. It doesn't 
look as though they, at least, had the record that 
is, if Langhorne has really lost it." 

I wondered whether Langhorne might not, after 
all, as Kennedy had hinted, have concealed it else 
where. The activity of Dorgan and Murtha might 
indicate that they knew more about the robbery than 
appeared yet on the surface. Had they failed in 
it? Had they been double-crossed by the man they 
had chosen for the work, assuming that they knew 
of and had planned the " job " ? 

The safe-breaking and the way Langhorne took 


it had served to complicate the case even further. 
While we had before been reasonably sure that 
Langhorne had the book, now we were sure of 


"TT7HAT do you make of that?" inquired 
VV Carton half an hour later as he met us 
breathlessly at the laboratory. 

He unfolded a letter over which he had evidently 
been puzzling considerably. It was written, or 
rather typewritten, on plain paper. The envelope 
was plain and bore no marks of identification, except 
possibly that it had been mailed uptown. 
The letter ran : 


Although this is an anonymous letter, I beg that 
you will not consider it such, since it will be plain 
to you that there is good reason for my wishing to 
remain nameless. 

I want to tell you of some things that have taken 
place recently at a little hotel in the West Fifties. 
No doubt you know of the place already the Little 

There are several young and wealthy men who 
frequent this resort. I do not dare tell you their 
names, but one is a well-known club-man and man 
about town, another is a banker and broker, also 
well known, and a third is a lawyer. I might also 
mention an intimate friend of theirs, though not of 
their position in society a doctor who has some- 



what of a reputation among the class of people who 
frequent the Little Montmartre, ready to furnish 
them with anything from a medical certificate to 
drugs and treatment. 

I have read a great deal in the newspapers lately 
of the disappearance of Betty Blackwell, and her 
case interests me. I think you will find that it will 
repay you to look into the hint I have given. I 
don't think it is necessary to say any more. Indeed 
it may be dangerous to me, and I beg that you will 
not even show this letter to anyone except those 
associated with you. and then, please, only with the 
understanding that it is to go no farther. 

Betty Blackwell is not at this hotel, but I am sure 
that some of those whose wild orgies have scandal 
ized even the Little Montmartre know something 
about her. 

Yours truly, 


Kennedy looked up quickly at Carton as he 
finished reading the letter. 

" Typical," he remarked. " Anonymous letters 
occasionally are of a friendly nature, but usually 
they reflect with more or less severity upon the con 
duct or character of someone. They usually re 
ceive little attention, but sometimes they are of the 
most serious character. In many instances they are 
most important links in chains of evidence pointing 
to grave crimes. 

" It is possible to draw certain conclusions from 
such letters at once. For instance, it is a surprising 
fact that in a large number of cases the anonymous 
letter writer is a woman, who may write what it 


does not seem possible she could write. Such letters 
often by their writing, materials used, composition 
and general form indicate at once the sex of the 
writer and frequently show nationality, age, educa 
tion, and occupation. These facts may often point 
to the probable author. 

" Now in this case the writer evidently was well 
educated. Assumed illiteracy is a frequent disguise, 
but it is impossible for an author to assume a lit 
eracy he or she does not possess. Then, too, women 
are more apt to assume the characteristics of men 
than men of women. There are many things to be 
considered. Too bad it wasn't in ordinary hand 
writing. That would have shown much more. 
However, we shall try our best with what we have 
here. What impressed you about it? " 

" Well," remarked Carton, " the thing that im 
pressed me was that as usual and as I fully ex 
pected, the trail leads right back to protected vice 
and commercialized graft. This Little Montmar- 
tre is one of the swellest of such resorts in the city, 
the legitimate successor to the scores and hundreds 
of places which the authorities and the vice investi 
gators have closed recently. In fact, Kennedy, I 
consider it more dangerous, because it is run, on 
the surface at least, just like any of the first-class 
hotels. There's no violation of law there, at least 
not openly." 

Craig had continued to examine the letter closely. 
" So, you have already investigated the Little Mont- 
martre ? " he queried, drawing from his pocket a 


little strip of glass and laying it down carefully over 
the letter. 

" Indeed I have," returned the District Attorney, 
watching Kennedy curiously. " It is a place with a 
very unsavoury reputation. And yet I have been 
able to get nothing on it. They are so confounded 
clever. There is never any outward violation of 
law; they adhere strictly to the letter of the rule 
of outward decency." 

Over the typewritten characters Kennedy had 
placed the strip of glass and I could see that it was 
ruled into little oblongs, into each of which one of 
the type of the typewritten sheet seemed to fall. 
Apparently he had forgotten the contents of the 
letter in his interest in the text itself. He held the 
paper up to the light and seemed to study its texture 
and thickness. Then he examined the typed char 
acters more closely with a little pocket magnifying 
glass, his lips moving as if he were counting some 
thing. Next he seized a mass of correspondence 
on his desk and began comparing the letter with 
others, apparently to determine just the shade of 
writing of the ribbon. Finally he gave it up and 
leaned back in his chair regarding us. 

" It is written in the regular pica type," he re 
marked thoughtfully, " and on a machine that has 
seen consfderable rough usage, although it is not 
an old machine. It will take me a little time to 
identify the make, but after I have done that, I think 
I could identify the particular machine itself the 
moment I saw it. You see, it is only a clue that 


would serve to fix it once you found that machine. 
The point is, after all, to find it. But once found, 
I am sure we shall be close to the source of the 
letter. I may keep this and study it at my leisure ? " 

11 Certainly." 

For a moment Carton was silent. Then it seemed 
as though the matter of Betty Blackwell brought to 
mind what he had read in the morning papers. 

" That robbery of Langhorne's safe was a most 
peculiar thing, wasn't it?" he meditated. "I sup 
pose you know what Miss Blackwell was? " 

" Langhorne's stenographer and secretary, of 
course," I replied quickly. 

" Yes, I know. But I mean what she had actually 
done? I don't believe you do. My county detec 
tives found out only last night." 

Kennedy paused in his rummaging among some 
bottles to which he had turned at the mention of the 
safe robbery. " No what was it? " he asked. 

Carton bent forward as if our own walls might 
have ears and said in a low voice : " She was the 
operator who took down the detectaphone conver 
sations at the other end of the wire in a furnished 
room in the house next to Gastron's." 

He drew back to see what effect the intelligence 
had on us, then resumed slowly: "Yes, I've had 
my cnen out on the case. That is what they think. 
I believe she often executed little confidential com 
missions for Langhorne, sometimes things that took 
her on short trips out of town. There is a possibility 
that she may be on a mission of that sort. But I 


think it's this Black Book case that involves her 


" Langhorne wouldn't talk much about any 
thing," I put in, hastily remembering his manner. 
" He may not be responsible but from his actions 
I'd wager he knows more about her than appears." 

" Just so," agreed Carton. " If my men can find 
out that she was the operator who ' listened in ' and 
got the notes and the transcript of the Black Book, 
then she becomes a person of importance in the 
case and the fact must be known to others who are 
interested. Why," he pursued, " don't you see what 
it means? If she is out of the way, there is no one 
to swear to the accuracy of the notes in the record, 
no one to identify the voices even if we do man 
age finally to locate the thing." 

" Dorgan and the rest are certainly leaving noth 
ing undone to shake the validity of the record," ru 
minated Kennedy, accepting for the moment at least 
Carton's explanation of the disappearance of Miss 
Blackwell. " Have you any idea what might have 
happened to her? " 

Carton shook his head negatively. ' There are 
several explanations," he replied slowly. " As far 
as we have been able to find out she led a model 
life, at home with her mother and sister. Except 
for the few commissions for Langhorne and lately 
when she was out rather late taking the detectaphone 
notes, she was very quiet, in fact devoted to her 
mother and the education of her younger sister." 

" What sort of place was it in which the receivers 


of the detectaphone were located do you know? " 
asked Kennedy quickly. 

" Yes, it seems to be a very respectable boarding- 
house," answered Carton. " She came there with a 
grip about a week ago and hired a room, saying she 
was out of town a great deal. Just about the same 
time a young man, who posed as a student in elec 
trical engineering at some school uptown, left. It 
must have been he who installed the detectaphone 
perhaps with the aid of a waiter in Gastron's. At 
any rate, she seems to have been alone in the board 
ing-house that is, I mean, not acquainted with any 
of the other guests during the time when she was 
taking down the record. Dorgan traced the wires, 
outside the two buildings, to her rooms, but she was 
not there. In fact there was nothing there but a 
grip with a few articles that give no clue to any 
thing. Somehow she must have heard of it, for 
no one knows anything about her, since then." 

" Perhaps Langhorne is keeping her out of the 
way so that no one can tamper with her testimony," 
I suggested. 

" It's possible," said Carton in a tone that showed 
that he did not believe in that explanation. " How 
about that safe robbery, Kennedy? Some of the 
papers hinted that she might have known something 
of that. I had a man down there watching, after 
wards, but I had cautioned him to be careful and 
keep under cover. One of the elevator boys told 
him that the robbers had made a hole in the safe. 
What did he mean? Did you see it? " 


Rapidly Kennedy sketched what we had done, 
telling the story of how the dynamometer had at 
least partly exonerated Betty Blackwell. 

When he reached the description of the hole in 
the safe, Carton was absolutely incredulous. As for 
myself, it presented a mystery which I found abso 
lutely inexplicable. How it was possible in such a 
short time to make a hole in a safe by any known 
means, I could not understand. In fact, if I had 
not seen it myself, I should have been even more 
sceptical than Carton. 

Kennedy, however, made no reply immediately to 
our expressions of doubt. He had found and set 
apart from the rest a couple of little glass bottles 
with ground glass stoppers. Then he took a thick 
piece of steel and laid it across a couple of blocks of 
wood, under which was a second steel plate. 

Without a word of explanation, he took the glass 
stopper out of the larger bottle and poured some 
of the contents on the upper plate of steel. There it 
lay, a little mound of reddish powder. Then he 
took a little powder of another kind from the other 

He lighted a match and ignited the second pile of 

" Stand back close to the wall shield your 
eyes," he called to us. 

He had dropped the burning mass on the red 
powder and in two or three leaps he joined us at the 
far end of the room. 

Almost instantly a dazzling, intense flame broke 


out. It seemed to sizzle and crackle. With bated 
breath we waited and, as best we could, shielding 
our eyes from the glare, watched. 

It was almost incredible, but that glowing mass 
of powder seemed literally to be sinking, sinking 
right down into the cold steel. In tense silence we 
waited. On the ceiling we could see the reflection of 
the molten mass in the cup which it had burned for 
itself in the cold steel plate. 

At last it fell through to the lower piece of steel, 
on which it burnt itself out fell through as the 
burning roof of a frame building might have fallen 
into the building. 

Neither Carton nor I spoke a word, but as we 
now cautiously advanced with Kennedy and peered 
over the steel plate we instinctively turned to Craig 
for an explanation. Carton seemed to regard him 
as if he were some uncanny mortal. For, there in 
the steel plate, was a hole. As I looked at the clean- 
cut edges, I saw that it was smaller but identical in 
nature with that which we had seen in the safe in 
Langhorne's office. 

"Wonderful!" ejaculated Carton. "What is 

' Thermit," was all Kennedy said, as just a trace 
of a smile of satisfaction flitted over his face. 

' Thermit? " echoed Carton, still as mystified as 

" Yes, an invention of a chemist named Gold- 
schmidt, of Essen, Germany. It is composed of 
iron oxide, such as comes off a blacksmith's anvil 


or the rolls of a rolling-mill, and powdered metallic 
aluminum. You could thrust a red-hot bar into it 
without setting it off, but when you light a little mag 
nesium powder and drop it on thermit, a combus 
tion is started that quickly reaches fifty-four hundred 
degrees Fahrenheit. It has the peculiar property 
of concentrating its heat to the immediate spot on 
which it is placed. It is one of the most powerful 
oxidizing agents known, and it doesn't even melt the 
rest of the steel surface. You see how it ate its 
way directly through this plate. Steel, hard or soft, 
tempered, annealed, chrome, or Harveyized it all 
burns just as fast and just as easily. And it's com 
paratively inexpensive, also. This is an experiment 
Goldschmidt it fond of showing his students burn 
ing holes in one- and two-inch steel plates. It is the 
same with a safe only you need more of the stuff. 
Either black or red thermit will do the trick equally 
well, however." 

Neither of us said anything. There was nothing 
to say except to feel and express amazement. 

" Someone uncommonly clever or instructed by 
someone uncommonly clever, must have done that 
job at Langhorne's," added Craig. " Have you any 
idea who might pull off such a thing for Dorgan or 
Murtha? " he asked of Carton. 

" There's a possible suspect," answered Carton 
slowly, " but since I've seen this wonderful exhibi 
tion of what thermit can do, I'm almost ashamed to 
mention his name. He's not in the class that would 
be likely to use such things." 


" Oh," laughed Kennedy, " never think it. Don't 
you suppose the crooks read the scientific and tech 
nical papers? Believe me, they have known about 
thermit as long as I have. Safes are constructed 
now that are proof against even that, and other 
methods of attack. No indeed, your modern scien 
tific cracksman keeps abreast of the times in his 
field better than you imagine. Our only protection 
is that fortunately science always keeps several laps 
ahead of him in the race and besides, we have or 
ganized society to meet all such perils. It may be 
that the very cleverness of the fellow will be his 
own undoing. The unusual criminal is often that 
much the easier to run down. It narrows the num 
ber of suspects." 

" Well," rejoined Carton, not as confident now 
as when he had first met us in the laboratory, " then 
there is a possible suspect a fellow known in the 
underworld as ' Dopey ' Jack Jack Rubano. He's 
a clever fellow no doubt. But I hardly think he's 
capable of that, although I should call him a rather 
advanced yeggman." 

" What makes you suspect him? " asked Kennedy 

" Well," temporized Carton, " I haven't anything 
' on ' him in this connection, it's true. But we've 
been trying to find him and can't seem to locate him 
in connection with primary frauds in Murtha's own 
district. Dopey Jack is the leader of a gang of 
gunmen over there and is Murtha's first lieutenant 
whenever there is a tough political battle of the 


organization either at the primaries or on Election 

" Has a record, I suppose ? " prompted Kennedy. 

" Would have if it wasn't for the influence of 
Murtha," rejoined Carton. 

I had heard, in knocking about the city, of Dopey 
Jack Rubano. That was the picturesque title by 
which he was known to the police and his enemies 
as well as to his devoted followers. A few years 
before, he had begun his career fighting in " pre 
liminaries " at the prize fight clubs on the lower 
East Side. 

He had begun life with a better chance than most 
slum boys, for he had rugged health and an un 
usually sturdy body. His very strength had been his 
ruin. Working decently for wages, he had been 
told by other petty gang leaders that he was a 
" sucker," when he could get many times as much 
for boxing a few rounds at some " athletic " club. 
He tried out the game with many willing instructors 
and found that it was easy money. 

Jack began to wear better clothes and study the 
methods of other young men who never worked but 
always seemed to have plenty of money. They were 
his pals and showed him how it was done. It wasn't 
long before he learned that he could often get more 
by hitting a man with a blackjack than by using his 
fists in the roped ring. Then, too, there were vari 
ous ways of blackmail and extortion that were sim 
ple, safe, and lucrative. He might be arrested, but 
he early found that by making himself useful to 


some politicians, they could fix that minor difficulty 
in the life. 

Thus because he was not only strong and brutal, 
but had a sort of ability and some education, Dopey 
Jack quickly rose to a position of minor leadership 
had his own incipient " gang," his own " lobby- 
gows." His following increased as he rose in gang 
land, and finally he came to be closely associated 
with Murtha himself on one hand and the " guns " 
and other criminals of the underworld who fre 
quented the stuss games, where they gambled away 
the products of their crimes, on the other. 

Everyone knew Dopey Jack. He had been 
charged with many crimes, but always through the 
aid of " the big fellows " he avoided the penitentiary 
and every fresh and futile attempt to end his career 
increased the numbers and reverence of his follow 
ers. His had been the history and he was the pat 
tern now of practically every gang leader of conse 
quence in the city. The fight club had been his 
testing ground. There he had learned the code, 
which can be summarized in two words, " Don't 
squeal." For gangland hates nothing so much as a 
" snitch." As a beginner he could be trusted to 
commit any crime assigned to him and go to prison, 
perhaps the chair, rather than betray a leader. As a 
leader he had those under him trained in the same 
code. That still was his code to those above him if 
the System. 

'* We want him for frauds at the primaries," re 
peated Carton, ** at least, if we can find him, we 


can hold him on that for a time. I thought perhaps 
he might know something of the robbery and 
about the disappearance of the girl, too. 

" Oh," he continued, " there are lots of things 
against him. Why, only last week there was a 
dance of a rival association of gang leaders. 
Against them Dopey Jack led a band of his own 
followers and in the ensuing pistol battle a passer-by 
was killed. Of course we can't connect Dopey Jack 
with his death, but then we know as well as we 
know anything in gangland that he was responsible." 

" I suppose it isn't impossible that he may know 
something about the disappearance of Miss Black- 
well," remarked Kennedy. 

" No," replied Carton, " not at all, although, so 
far, there is absolutely no clue as far as I can figure 
out. She may have been bought off or she may have 
been kidnapped." 

" In either case the missing girl must be found," 
said Craig. " We must get someone interested in 
her case who knows something about what may 
happen to a girl in New York." 

Carton had been revolving the matter in his 
mind. " By George," he exclaimed suddenly, " I 
think I know just the person to take up that case for 
us it's quite in her line. Can you spare the time to 
run down to the Reform League headquarters 
with me?" 

" Nothing could be more important, just at the 
minute," replied Craig. 


The telephone buzzed and he answered it, a mo 
ment later handing the receiver to Carton. 

" It's your office," he said. " One of the assist 
ant district attorneys wants you on the wire." 

As Carton hung up the receiver he turned to us 
with a look of great satisfaction. 

" Dopey Jack has just been arrested," he an 
nounced. " He has shut up like an oyster, but we 
think we can at least hold him for a few days this 
time until we sift down some of these clues." 



CARTON took us directly to the campaign 
headquarters of the Reform League, where 
his fight for political life was beir\g conducted. 

We found the offices in the tower of a skyscraper, 
whence was pouring forth a torrent of appeal to the 
people, in printed and oral form of every kind, 
urging them to stand shoulder to shoulder for good 
government and vote the " ring " out of power. 

There seemed to me to be a different tone to the 
place from that which I had ordinarily associated 
with political headquarters in previous campaigns. 
There was a notable absence of the old-fashioned 
politicians and of the air of intrigue laden with 

Rather, there was an air of earnestness and effi 
ciency, which was decidedly encouraging and hope 
ful. It seemed to speak of a new era in politics 
when things were to be done in the open instead of 
at secret meetings and scandalous dinners, as Dor- 
gan did them at Gastron's. 

Maps of the city were hanging on the walls, some 
stuck full of various coloured pins, denoting the con 
dition of the canvass. Other maps of the city in 
colours, divided into all sorts of districts, told how 



fared the battle in the various strongholds of Boss 
Dorgan and Sub-boss Murtha. 

Huge systems of card indexes, loose leaf devices, 
labour-saving appliances for getting out a vast 
amount of campaign "literature" in a hurry; in 
short, a perfect system, such as a great, well-man 
aged business might have been proud of, were in 
evidence everywhere one looked. 

Work was going ahead in every department under 
high pressure, for the campaign, which had been 
more than usually heated, was now drawing to a 
close. Indeed, it would have taken no great astute 
ness, even without one's being told, to deduce merely 
from the surroundings that the people here were 
engaged in the annual struggle of seeking the votes 
of their fellow-citizens for reform and were nearly 
worn out by the arduous endeavour. 

It had been, as I have said, the bitterest campaign 
in years. Formerly the reformers had been of the 
" silk-stocking " type, but now a new and younger 
generation was coming upon the stage, a generation 
which had been trained to achieve results, ambitious 
to attain what in former years had been considered 
impossible. The Reform League was making a 
stiff campaign and the System was, by the same 
token, more frightened than ever before. 

Carton was fortunate in having shaken off the 
thralldom of the old bosses even before the popular 
uprising against them had assumed such proportions 
as to warrant anyone in taking his political life in 
his hands by defying the powers that ruled behind 


the scenes. In fact, the Reform League itself owed 
its existence to a fortunate conjunction of both moral 
and economic conditions which demanded progress. 

Of course, the League did not have such a big 
" barrel " as their opponents under Dorgan. But, 
at least they did have many willing workers, men 
and women, who were ready to sacrifice something 
for the advancement of the principles for which they 

In one part of the suite of offices which had been 
leased by the League, Carton had had assigned to 
him an office of his own, and it was to this office that 
he led us, after a word with the boy who guarded 
the approach to the door, and an exchange of greet 
ings with various workers and visitors in the out 
side office. 

We seated ourselves while Carton ran his eye 
through some letters that had been left on his desk 
for his attention. 

A moment later the door of his office opened and 
a young lady in a very stunning street dress, with a 
pretty little rakish hat and a tantalizing veil, stood 
a moment, hesitated, and then was about to turn 
back with an apology for intruding on what looked 
like a conference. 

" Good-morning, Miss Ashton," greeted Carton, 
laying down the letters instantly. " You're just the 
person I want to see." 

The girl, with a portfolio of papers in her hand, 
smiled and he quickly crossed the room and held the 
door open, as he whispered a word or two to her. 


She was a handsome girl, something more than 
even pretty. The lithe gracefulness of her figure 
spoke of familiarity with both tennis and tango, 
and her face with its well-chiselled profile denoted 
intellectuality from which no touch of really femi 
nine charm had been removed by the fearsome pro 
cess of the creation of the modern woman. Sin 
cerity as well as humour looked out from the liquid 
depths of her blue eyes beneath the wavy masses of 
blonde hair. She was good to look at and we 
looked, irresistibly. 

" Let me introduce Professor Kennedy and Mr. 
Jameson, Miss Ashton," began Carton, adding: 
" Of course you have heard of Miss Margaret 
Ashton, the suffragist leader? She is the head of 
our press bureau, you know. She's making a great 
fight for us here a winning fight." 

It seemed from the heightened look of determina 
tion which set Carton's face in deeper lines that Miss 
Ashton had that indispensable political quality of 
inspiring both confidence and enthusiasm in those 
who worked with her. 

" It is indeed a great pleasure to meet you," re 
marked Kennedy. " Both Mr. Jameson and myself 
have heard and read a great deal about your work, 
though we seem never before to have had the pleas 
ure of meeting you." 

Miss Ashton, I recalled, was a very clever girl, 
a graduate of a famous woman's college, and had 
had several years of newspaper experience before 
she became a leader in the cause of equal suffrage. 


The Ashtons were well known in society and it 
was a sore trial to some of her conservative friends 
that she should reject what they considered the 
proper " sphere " for women and choose to go out 
into life and devote herself to doing something that 
was worth while, rather than to fritter her time and 
energy away on the gaiety and inconsequentiality of 
social life. 

Among those friends, I had understood, was 
Hartley Langhorne himself. He was older than 
Miss Ashton, but had belonged to the same social 
circle and had always held her in high regard. In 
fact the attentions he paid her had long been notice 
able, the more so as she seemed politely unaffected 
by them. 

Carton had scarcely more than introduced us, yet 
already I felt sure that I scented a romance behind 
the ordinarily prosaic conduct of a campaign press 

It is far from my intention even to hint that the 
ability or success of the head of the press bureau 
were not all her own or were in any degree over 
rated. But it struck me, both then and often later, 
that the candidate for District Attorney had an 
extraordinary interest in the newspaper campaign, 
much more, for instance, than in the speakers' bu 
reau. I am sure that it was not wholly accounted 
for by the fact that publicity is playing a more 
and more important part in political campaign 

Nevertheless, as we came to know afterward^ 


such innovations as her card index system by elec 
tion districts all over the city, showing the attitude 
of the various newspaper editors, local leaders, and 
other influential citizens, recording changes of senti 
ment and possible openings for future work, all 
were very full and valuable. Kennedy, who had a 
regular pigeon-hole mind for facts himself, was vis 
ibly impressed by the huge mechanical memory 
built up by Miss Ashton. 

Though he said nothing to me, I knew that Craig 
also had observed the state of affairs between the 
reform candidate and the suffrage leader. 

" You see, Miss Ashton," explained Carton, 
" someone has placed a detectaphone in the private 
dining-room of Dorgan at Gastron's. I heard of it 
first through Mrs. Ogleby, who attended one of the 
dinners and was terribly afraid her name would be 
connected with them if the record should ever be 

; "'Mrs. Ogleby?" cried Miss Ashton quickly. 
" She at a dinner with Mr. Murtha ? I I can't 
believe it." 

Carton said nothing. Whether he knew more 
about Mrs. Ogleby than he cared to tell, I could 
not even guess. 

As he went on briefly summarizing the story, Miss 
Ashton shot a quick glance or two at him. 

Carton noticed it, but appeared not to do so. " I 
suppose," he concluded, " that she thought I was 
the only person capable of eavesdropping. As a 
matter of fact, I think the instrument was put in 


by Hartley Langhorne as part of the fight that is 
going on fiercely under the surface in the organ 

It was Carton's turn now, I fancied, to observe 
Miss Ashton more closely. As far as I could see, 
the information was a matter of perfect indifference 
to her. 

Carton did not say it in so many words, but one 
could not help gathering that rather than seem to 
be pursuing a possible rival and using his official 
position in order to do it, he was not considering 
Langhorne in any other light than as a mere actor 
in the drama between himself and Dorgan and 

" Now," he concluded, " the point of the whole 
thing is this, Miss Ashton. We have learned that 
Betty Blackwell you know the case who took 
the notes over the detectaphone for the Black Book, 
has suddenly and mysteriously disappeared. If she 
is gone, it may be difficult to prove anything, even if 
we get the book. Miss Blackwell happens to be a 
stenographer in the office of Langhorne & West- 

For the first time, Miss Ashton seemed to show 
a sign of embarrassment. Evidently she would just 
as well have had Miss Blackwell in some other con 

" Perhaps you would rather have nothing to do 
with it," suggested Carton, " but I know that you 
were always interested in things of the sort that 
happen to girls in the city and thought perhaps you 


could advise us, even if you don't feel like per 
sonally taking up the case." 

" Oh, it doesn't matter," she murmured. " Of 
course, the first thing for us to do is, as you say, to 
find what has become of Betty Blackwell." 

Carton turned suddenly at the word " us," but 
Miss Ashton was still studying the pattern of the 

" Do you know any more about her? " she asked 
at length. 

As fully as possible the District Attorney repeated 
what he had already told us. Miss Ashton seemed 
to be more than interested in the story of the disap 
pearance of Langhorne's stenographer. 

As Carton unfolded the meagre details of what 
we knew so far, Miss Ashton appeared to be torn 
by conflicting opinions. The more she thought of 
what might possibly have happened to the unfortu 
nate girl, the more aroused about the case she 
seemed to become. 

Carton had evidently calculated on enlisting her 
sympathies, knowing how she felt toward many of 
the social and economic injustices toward women, 
and particularly girls. 

" If Mr. Murtha or Mr. Dorgan is responsible 
in any way for any harm to her," she said finally, 
her earnest eyes now ablaze with indignation, " I 
shall not rest until someone is punished." 

Kennedy had been watching her emotions keenly, 
I suspect, to see whether she connected Langhorne 
in any way with the disappearance. I could see it in- 


terested him that she did not seem even to consider 
that Langhorne might be responsible. Whether 
her intuition was correct or not, it was at least bet 
ter at present than any guess that we three might 
have made. 

:< They control so many forces for evil," she 
went on, " that there is no telling what they might 
command against a defenceless girl like her when 
it is a question of their political power." 

" Then," pursued Kennedy, pacing the floor 
thoughtfully, " the next question is, How are we to 
proceed? The first step naturally will be the in 
vestigation of this Little Montmartre. How is it 
to be done? I presume you don't want to go up 
there and look the place over yourself, do you, 

" Most certainly not," said Carton emphatically. 
" Not if you want this case to go any further. Why, 
I can't walk around a corner now without a general 
scurry for the cyclone cellars. They all know me, 
and those who don't are watching for me. On the 
contrary, if you are going to start there I had bet 
ter execute a flank movement in Queens or Jersey 
to divert attention. Really, I mean it. I had better 
keep in the background. But I'll tell you what I 
would like to do." 

Carton hesitated and came to a full stop. 

"What's the matter?" asked Kennedy quickly, 
noticing the hesitation. 

" Why I er didn't know just how you'd take 
a suggestion that's all." 


"Thankfully. What is it?" 

" You know young Haxworth? " 

" You mean the son of the millionaire who is in 
vestigating vice and whom the newspapers are 
poking fun at? " 

" Yes. Those papers make me tired. He has 
been working, you know, with me in this matter. He 
is really serious about it, too. He has a corps of 
investigators of his own already. Well, there is one 
of them, a woman detective named Clare Kendall, 
who is the brains of the whole Haxworth outfit. If 
you would be willing to have them er to have her 
co-operate with you, I think I could persuade Hax 
worth " 

" Oh," broke in Kennedy with a laugh. " I see. 
You think perhaps there might be some professional 
jealousy? On the contrary, it solves a problem I 
was already considering. Of course we shall need 
a woman in this case, one with a rare amount of 
discretion and ability. Yes, by all means let us call 
in Miss Kendall, and let us take every advantage we 
can of what she has already accomplished." 

Carton seized the telephone. 

:t Tell her to meet us at my laboratory in half an 
hour," interposed Kennedy. " You will come 

" I can't. Court opens in twenty minutes and 
there is a motion I must argue myself." 

Miss Ashton appeared to be greatly gratified at 
Craig's reception of the suggestion, and Carton 
noticed it. 


"Oh, yes," recollected Carton, " by the way, as 
I was on my way down here, my office called up and 
told me that they had succeeded in locating and ar 
resting Dopey Jack. That ought to please you, it 
will mean cutting down the number of those East 
Side ' rackets ' considerably if we succeed with 

"Good!" she exclaimed. "Yes, I don't think 
there were any worse affairs than the dances of that 
Jack Rubano Association. They have got hold of 
more young girls and caused more tragedies than 
any other gang. If you need any help in getting 
together evidence, Mr. Carton, I shall be only too 
glad to help you. I have several old scores myself 
to settle with that young tough." 

" Thank you," said Carton. " I shall need your 
help, if we are to do anything. Of course, we can 
hold him only for primary frauds just now, but I 
may be able to do something about that dance that 
he broke up as a shooting affray." 

Miss Ashton nodded encouragingly. 

" And," he went on, " it's barely possible that he 
may know something, or some of his followers may, 
about the robbery of Mr. Langhorne's safe, if not 
about the complete and mysterious disappearance of 
Betty Blackwell." 

" They'd stop at nothing to save their precious 
skins," commented Miss Ashton. " Perhaps that is 
a good lead. At any rate I can suggest that to the 
various societies and other agencies which I intend 
to set in motion trying to trace what has happened 


to her. You can have him held until they have time 
to report?" 

" I shall make it a point to do so at any cost," he 
returned, "and I can say only this, that we are all 
deeply indebted to you for the interest you have 
shown in the case." 

" Not at all," she replied enthusiastically, evi 
dently having overcome the first hesitation which 
had existed because Miss Blackwell had been Lang- 
horne's stenographer. 

Miss Ashton had quickly jotted down in her note 
book the best description we could give of the miss 
ing girl, her address, and other facts about her, and 
a list of those whom she meant to start at work on 
the case. 

For a moment she hesitated over one name, then 
with a sudden resolution wrote it down. 

" I intend to see Hartley Langhorne about it, 
too," she added frankly. " Perhaps he may tell 
something of importance, after all." 

I am sure that this final resolution cost her more 
than all the rest. Carton would never have asked 
it of her, yet was gratified that she saw it to be her 
duty to leave nothing undone in tracing the girl, not 
even considering the possibility of offending Lang 

" Decent people don't seem to realize," she re 
marked as she shut her little notebook and slipped 
it back into her chatelaine, " how the System and 
the underworld really do affect them. They think 
it is all something apart from the rest of us, and 


never consider how closely we are all bound to 
gether and how easy it is for the lowest and most 
vicious stratum in the social order to pass over and 
affect the highest." 

" That's exactly the point," agreed Carton. 
" Take this very case. It goes from Wall Street to 
gangland, from Gastron's down to the underworld 
gambling joints of Dopey Jack and the rest." 

" Society gambling," mused Miss Ashton, taking 
out her notebook again. " That reminds me of 
Martin Ogleby. I must see Mary and try to warn 
her against some of those sporty friends of her hus 

" Please, Miss Ashton," put in Carton quickly, 
" don't mention that I have told you of the detecta- 
phone record. It might do more harm than good, 
just at present. For a time at least, I think we 
should try to keep under cover." 

Whether or not that was his real reason, he 
turned now to Kennedy for support. We had been, 
for the most part, silent spectators of what had 
been happening. 

" I think so for the present at least as far as 
our knowledge of the Black Book goes," acquiesced 
Craig. He had turned to Miss Ashton and made 
no effort to conceal the admiration which he felt for 
her, after even so brief an acquaintance. " I think 
Miss Ashton can be depended upon to play her part 
in the game perfectly. I, for one, want to thank 
her most heartily for the way in which she has 
joined us." 


" Thank you," she smiled, as she rose to go to 
her own office. " Oh, you can always depend on 
me," she assured us as she gathered up her port 
folio of papers, " where there are the interests of a 
girl like Betty Blackwell involvedl " 

HALF an hour later, a tall, striking, self-reliant 
young woman with an engaging smile opened 
the laboratory door and asked for Professor Ken 

"Miss Kendall?" Craig inquired, coming for 
ward to meet her. 

She was dark-haired, with regular features and 
an expression which showed a high degree of intel 
ligence. Her clear grey eyes seemed to penetrate 
and tear the mask off you. It was not only her 
features and eyes that showed intelligence, but her 
gown showed that without sacrificing neatness she 
had deliberately toned down the existing fashions 
which so admirably fitted in with her figure in order 
that she might not appear noticeable. It was clever, 
for if there is anything a good detective must do it 
is to prevent people from looking twice. 

I knew something of her history already. She 
had begun on a rather difficult case for one of the 
large agencies and after a few years of experience 
had decided that there was a field for an independ 
ent woman detective who would appeal particularly 
to women themselves. Unaided she had fought her 



way to a position of keen rivalry now with the best 
men in the profession. 

Narrowly I watched Kennedy. Here, I felt in 
stinctively, were the " new " woman and the " new " 
man, if there are such things. I wondered just how 
they would hit it off together. For the moment, at 
least, Clare Kendall was an absorbing study, as she 
greeted us with a frank, jerky straight-arm hand 

" Mr. Carton," she said directly, " has told me 
that he received an anonymous letter this morning. 
May I see it?" 

There are times when the so-called " new " 
woman's assumed masculine brusqueness is a trifle 
jarring, as well as often missing the point. But with 
Clare Kendall one did not feel that she was eternally 
trying to assert that she was the equal or the supe 
rior of someone else, although she was, as far as 
the majority of detectives I have met are concerned. 
It was rather that she was different; in fact, almost 
from the start I felt that she was indispensable. She 
seemed to have that ability to go straight to the 
point at issue, a sort of faculty of intuition which is 
often more valuable than anything else, the ability 
to feel or sense things for which at first there was 
no actual proof. No good detective ever lacks that 
sort of instinct, and Clare Kendall, being a woman, 
had it in large degree. But she had more. She had 
the ability to go further and get the facts and actual 
proof; for, as she often said during the course of a 
case, " Woman's intuition may not be good evi- 


dence in a court of law, but it is one of the best 
means to get good evidence that will convince a court 
of law." 

" My investigators have been watching that place 
for some time," she remarked as she finished the 
letter. " Of course, having been closely in touch 
with this sort of thing for several months in my 
work, I have had all the opportunity in the world to 
observe and collect information. The letter does 
not surprise me." 

' Then you think it is a good tip? " asked Ken 

" Decidedly, although without the letter I should 
not have started there, I think. Still, as nearly as I 
can gather, there is a rather nondescript crowd con 
nected in one way or another with the Montmartre. 
For instance, there is a pretty tough character who 
seems to be connected with the people there, my in 
vestigators tell me. It is a fellow named ' Ike the 
Dropper,' one of those strong-arm men who have 
migrated up from the East Side to the White Light 
District. At least my investigators have told me 
they have seen him there, for I have never bothered 
with the place myself. There has been plenty of 
work elsewhere which promised immediate results. 
I'm glad to have a chance to tackle this place, 
though, with your help." 

" What do you think of the rest of the letter? " 
asked Craig. 

" I think I could make a pretty shrewd guess 
from what I have heard, as to the identity of some 


of those hinted at. I'm not sure, but I think the 
lawyer may be a Mr. Kahn, a clever enough attor 
ney who has a large theatrical clientele and none too 
savoury a reputation as a local politician. The 
banker may be Mr. Langhorne, although he is not 
exactly a young man. Still, I know he has been 
associated with the place. As for the club-man I 
should guess that that was Martin Ogleby." 

Kennedy and I exchanged glances of surprise. 

" As a first step," said Kennedy, at length, " I am 
going to write a letter to Betty Blackwell, care of the 
Little Montmartre or perhaps you had better do 
the actual writing of it, Miss Kendall. A woman's 
hand will look less suspicious." 

" What shall I write? " she asked. 

' Just a few lines. Tell her that you are one of 
the girls in the office, that you have heard she was at 
the Montmartre anything. The actual writing 
doesn't make any difference. I merely want to see 
what happens." 

Miss Kendall quickly wrote a little note and 
handed it to him. 

i4 Then direct this envelope," he said, reaching 
into a drawer of his desk and bringing out a plain 
white one. " And let me seal it." 

Carefully he sealed and stamped the letter and 
handed it to me to post. 

"You will dine with us, Miss Kendall?" he 
asked. " Then we will plan the next step in our 

" I shall be glad to do so," she replied. 


Fifteen minutes later I had dropped the letter in 
the drop of a branch of the general post-office to 
ensure its more prompt delivery, and it was on its 
way through the mails to accomplish the purpose 
Kennedy may have contemplated. 

' Just now it is more important for us to become 
acquainted with this Little Montmartre," he re 
marked. " I suppose, Miss Kendall, we may de 
pend on you to join us? " 

" Indeed you may," she replied energetically. 
" There is nothing that we would welcome more 
than evidence that would lead to the closing of that 

Kennedy seemed to be impressed by the frank 
ness and energy of the young woman. 

" Perhaps if we three should go there, hire a 
private dining-room, and look about without making 
any move against the place that would excite sus 
picion, we might at least find out what it is that we 
are fighting. Of course we must dine somewhere, 
and up there at the same time we can plan our cam 

" I think that would be ripping," she laughed, as 
the humour of the situation dawned on her. " Why, 
we shall be laying our plans right in the heart of 
the enemy's country and they will never realize it. 
Perhaps, too, we may get a glimpse of some of those 
people mentioned in the anonymous letter." 

To Clare Kendall it was simply another phase of 
the game which she had been playing against the 
forces of evil in the city. 


The Little Montmartre was, as I already knew, 
one of the smaller hotels in a side street just off 
Broadway, eight or ten stories in height, of modern 
construction, and for all the world exactly like a 
score of other of the smaller hostelries of the 
famous city of hotels. 

Clare, Craig, and myself pulled up before the 
entrance in a taxicab, that seeming to be the accepted 
method of entering with eclat. A boy opened the 
door. I jumped out and settled with the driver 
without a demur at the usual overcharge, while 
Craig assisted Clare. 

Laughing and chatting, we entered the bronze 
plate-glass doors and walked slowly down a richly 
carpeted corridor. It was elegantly furnished and 
decorated with large palms set at intervals, quite 
the equal in luxuriousness, though on a smaller scale, 
of any of the larger and well-known hotels. Beauti 
fully marked marbles and expensive hangings 
greeted the eye at every turn. Faultlessly liveried 
servants solicitously waited about for tips. 

Craig and Clare, who were slightly ahead of me, 
turned quickly into a little alcove, or reception room 
and Craig placed a chair for her. Farther down 
the corridor I could see the office, and beyond a 
large main dining-room from which strains of music 
came and now and then the buzz of conversation and 
laughter from gay parties at the immaculately white 

" Boy," called Kennedy quietly, catching the eye 
of a passing bell hop and unostentatiously slipping 

a quarter into his hand, which closed over the coin 
almost automatically, " the head waiter, please. Oh 
er by the way what is his name ? " 

" Julius," returned the boy, to whom the pro 
ceeding seemed to present nothing novel, although 
the whole atmosphere of the place was beyond his 
years. " I'll get him in a minute, sir. He's in the 
main dining-room. He's having some trouble with 
the cabaret singers. One of them is late as usual." 

We sat in the easy chairs watching the people 
passing and repassing in the corridor. There was 
no effort at concealment here. 

A few minutes later Julius appeared, a young 
man, tall and rather good-looking, suave and easy. 
A word or two with Kennedy followed, during which 
a greenback changed hands in fact that seemed to 
be the open sesame to everything here and we 
were in the elevator decorously escorted by the pol 
ished Julius. 

The door of the elevator shut noiselessly and it 
shot up to the next floor. Julius preceded us down 
the thickly carpeted corridor leading the way to a 
large apartment, or rather a suite of rooms, as 
handsomely furnished as any in other hotels. He 
switched on the lights and left us, with the remark, 
" When you want the waiter or anything, just press 
the button." 

In the largest of the rooms was a dining-table and 
several chairs of Jacobean oak. A heavy sideboard 
and serving-table stood against opposite walls. An 
other, smaller room was furnished very attractively 


as a sitting-room. Deep, easy chairs stood in the 
corners and a wide, capacious davenport stretched 
across one wall. In another nook was a little divan 
or cosy corner. 

Electric bulbs burned pinkly in the chandeliers and 
on silver candelabra on the table, giving a half light 
that was very romantic and fascinating. From a 
curtained window that opened upon an interior court 
we could catch strains from the cabaret singers 
below in the main dining-room. Everything was 
new and bright. 

Kennedy pressed the button and a waiter brought 
a menu, imposing in length and breath-taking in 

" The cost of vice seems to have gone up with 
the cost of living," remarked Miss Kendall, as the 
waiter disappeared as silently as he had responded 
to the bell. It was a phrase that stuck in my head, 
so apt was it in describing the anomalous state of 
things we found as the case unrolled. 

Craig ordered, now and then consulting Clare 
about some detail. The care and attention devoted 
to us could not have been more punctilious if it had 
been an elaborate dinner party. 

" Well," he remarked, as the waiter at last 
closed the door of the private dining-room to give 
the order in downstairs in the kitchen, " the Little 
Montmartre makes a brave showing. I suppose it 
will be some time before the dinner arrives, though. 
There is certainly some piquancy to this," he added, 
looking about at the furnishings. 


" Yes," remarked Miss Kendall, " risque from 
the moment you enter the door." 

She said it with an impersonal tone as if there 
were complete detachment between herself as an 
observer and as a guest of the Montmartre. 

" Miss Kendall," asked Kennedy, " did you 
notice anything particularly downstairs? I'd like 
to check up my own impressions by yours." 

" I noticed that Titian beauty in the hotel office 
as we left the reception room and entered the ele 

Craig smiled. 

" So did I. I thought you would be both woman 
enough and detective enough to notice her. Well, 
I suppose if a man likes that sort of girl that's the 
sort of girl he likes. That's point number one. But 
did you notice anything else as we came in, for 
instance? " 

" No except that everything seems to be a mat 
ter of scientific management here to get the most 
out of the suckers. This is no place for a piker. It 
all seems to run so smoothly, too. Still, I'm sure 
that our investigators might get something on the 
place if they kept right after it, although on the sur 
face it doesn't look as if any law was being openly 
violated here. What do you mean? What is your 
point number two? " 

" In the front window," resumed Craig, " just as 
you enter, I noticed one of those little oblong signs 
printed neatly in black on white ' Dr. Vernon Har 
ris, M. D.' You recall that the letter said some- 


thing about a doctor who was very friendly with 
that clique the writer mentioned? It's even money 
that this Harris is the one the writer meant. I sup 
pose he is the ' house physician ' of this gilded 

Clare nodded appreciatively. " Quite right," she 
agreed. ' Just how do you think he might be in 

" Of course I can't say. But I think, without 
going any further, that a man like that in a place 
like this will bear watching anyway, without our 
needing more than the fact that he is here. Natur 
ally we don't know anything about him as a doctor, 
but he must have some training; and in an environ 
ment like this well, a little training may be a dan 
gerous thing." 

" The letter said something about drugs," mused 

" Yes," added Kennedy. " As you know, alcohol 
is absolutely necessary to a thing like this. Girls 
must keep gay and attractive; they must meet men 
with a bright, unfaltering look, and alcohol just dulls 
the edge of conscience. Besides, look over that 
wine list it fills the till of the Montmartre, judging 
by the prices. But then, alcohol palls when the pace 
is as swift as it seems to be here. Even more essen 
tial are drugs. You know, after all, it is no won 
der so many drug fiends and drunkards are created 
by this life. Now, a doctor who is not over-scrupu 
lous, and he would have to be not over-scrupulous 
to be here at all, would find a gold mine in the 


dispensing of drugs and the toning up of drug fiends 
and others who have been going the pace too rap 

* Yes," she said. " We have found that some of 
these doctors are a great factor in the life of various 
sections of the city where they hang out. I know 
one who is deeply in the local politics and boasts 
that any resort that patronizes him is immune. Yes, 
that's a good point about Dr. Harris." 

" I suppose your investigators have had more or 
less to do with watching the progress of drug hab 
its?" ventured Craig. 

" Very much," she replied, catching the drift of 
his remarks. " We have found, for instance, that 
there are a great many cases where it seems that 
drugs have been used in luring young and innocent 
girls. Not the old knockout drops chloral, you 
know but modern drugs, not so powerful, perhaps, 
but more insidious, and in that respect, I suppose, 
more dangerous. There are cocaine fiends, opium 
smokers; oh, lots of them. But those we find in the 
slums mostly. Still, I suppose there are all kinds of 
drugs up here in the White Light District bella 
donna to keep the eyes bright, arsenic to whiten the 
complexion, and so on." 

" Yes," asserted Craig. ' This section of the city 
may not be so brutal in its drug taking as others, but 
it is here yes, and it is over on Fifth Avenue, too, 
right in society. Before we get through I'm sure 
we'll both learn much more than we even dream of 


The door opened after a discreet tap from the 
waiter and the lavish dinner which Craig had or 
dered appeared. The door stayed open for a mo 
ment as the bus boy carried in the dishes. A rustle 
of skirts and low musical laughter was wafted in to 
us and we caught a glimpse of another gay party 
passing down the hall. 

"How many private dining-rooms are there?" 
asked Craig of the waiter. 

" Just this one, sir, and the next one, which is 
smaller," replied the model waiter, with the air of 
one who could be blind and deaf and dumb if he 

" Oh, then we were lucky to get this." 

4 Yes, sir. It is really best to telephone first to 
Julius to make sure and have one of the rooms re 
served, sir." 

Craig made a mental note of the information. 
The party in the next room were hilariously order 
ing, mostly from the wine list. None of us had 
recognized any of them, nor had they paid much 
attention to us. 

Craig had eaten little, although the food was 
very good. 

" It's a shame to come here and not see the whole 
place," he remarked. " I wonder if you would ex 
cuse me while I drop downstairs to look over things 
there perhaps ingratiate myself with that Titian? 
Tell Miss Kendall about our visit to Langhorne's 
office while I am gone, Walter." 

There was not much that I could tell except the 


bare facts, but I thought that Miss Kendall seemed 
especially interested in the broker's reticence about 
his stenographer. 

I had scarcely finished when Craig returned. A 
glance at his face told me that even in this brief 
time something had happened. 

" Did you meet the Titian? " I asked. 

" Yes. She is the stenographer and sometimes 
works the switchboard of the telephone. I happened 
to strike the office while the clerk was at dinner and 
she was alone. While I was talking to her I was 
looking about and my eye happened to fall on one 
of the letter boxes back of the desk, marked ' Dr. 
Harris.' Well, at once I had an overwhelming de 
sire to get a note which I saw sticking in it. So I 
called up a telephone number, just as a blind, and 
while she was at the switchboard I slipped the note 
into my pocket. Here it is." 

He had laid an envelope down before us. It was 
in a woman's hand, written hastily. 

" I'd like to know what was in it without Dr. 
(Harris knowing it," he remarked. " Now, the 
secret service agents abroad have raised letter-open 
ing to a fine art. Some kinds of paper can be 
steamed open without leaving a trace, and then they 
follow that simple operation by reburnishing the 
flap with a bone instrument. But that won't do. It 
might make this ink run." 

Among the ornaments were several with flat 
wooden bases. Kennedy took one and placed it on 
the edge of the table, which was perfectly square. 


Then he placed the envelope between the table and 
the base. 

" When other methods fail," he went on, " they 
place the envelope between two pieces of wood with 
the edges projecting about a thirty-second of an 

He had first flattened the edge of the envelope, 
then roughened it, and finally slit it open. 

" Scientific letter-opening," he remarked, as he 
pulled out a little note written on the hotel paper. It 


Called you up twice and then dropped into the 
hotel, but you seem to be out all the time. Have 
something 'very important to tell you. Shall be busy 
to-night and in the morning, but will be at the the 
dansant at the Futurist Tea Room to-morrow after 
noon about four. Be sure to be there. 


" I shall," commented Kennedy. " Now the 
question is, how to seal up this letter so that he 
won't know it has been opened. I saw some of this 
very strong mucilage in the office. Ring the bell, 
Walter. I'll get that impervious waiter to borrow 
it for a moment." 

Five minutes later he had applied a hair line of 
the strong, colourless gum to the inside of the en 
velope and had united the edges under pressure be 
tween the two pieces of wood. As soon as it was 
dry he excused himself again and went back to the 


office, where he managed to secure an opportunity to 
stick the letter back in the box and chat for a few 
minutes longer with the Titian. 

" There's a wild cabaret down in the main dining- 
room," he reported on his return. " I think we 
might just as well have a glimpse of it before we go." 

Kennedy paid the cheque, which by this time had 
mounted like a taximeter running wild, and we 
drifted into the dining-room, a rather attractive hall, 
panelled in Flemish oak with artificial flowers and 
leaves about, and here and there a little bird con 
cealed in a cage in the paper foliage. 

As cabarets go, it was not bad, although I could 
imagine how wild it might become in the evening 
or on special occasion. 

" That Dr. Harris interests me," remarked Ken 
nedy across the table at us. " We must get some 
thing in writing from him in some way. And then 
there's that girl in the office, too. She seems to be 
right in with all these people here." 

Evidently the cabaret had little of interest to 
Miss Kendall, who, after a glance that took in the 
whole dining-room and disclosed none there in the 
gay crowd who, as far as we could see, had any 
relation to the case, seemed bored. 

Craig noticed it and at once rose to go. 

As we passed out and into the corridor, Miss 
Kendall turned and whispered, " Look over at the 
desk Dr. Harris." 

Sure enough, chatting with the stenographer was 
a man with one of those black bags which doctors 


carry. He was a young man in appearance, one of 
those whom one sees in the White Light District, 
with unnaturally bright eyes which speak of late 
hours and a fast pace. He wore a flower in his but 
tonhole a very fetching touch with some women. 
Debonair, dapper, dashing, his face was not one 
readily forgotten. As we passed hurriedly I ob 
served that he had torn open the note and had 
thrown the envelope, unsuspectingly, into the basket. 

WITH the arrest of Dopey Jack, it seemed as 
if all the forces of the gang world were 
solidified for the final battle. 

Carton had been engaged in a struggle with the 
System so long that he knew just how to get action, 
the magistrates he could depend on, the various pit 
falls that surrounded the snaring of one high in 
gangland, the judges who would fix bail that was 
prohibitively high. 

As he had anticipated and prepared for, every 
wire was pulled to secure the release of Rubano. 
But Carton was fortunate in having under him a 
group of young and alert assistants. It took the 
combined energies of his office, however, to carry 
the thing through and Kennedy and I did not see 
Carton again for some time. 

Meanwhile we were busy gathering as much in 
formation as we could about those who were likely 
to figure in the case. It was remarkable, but we 
found that the influence of Dorgan and Murtha was 
felt in the most unexpected quarters. People who 
would have talked to us on almost any other sub 
ject, absolutely refused to become mixed up in this 



affair. It was as though the System practised ter 
rorism on a large scale. 

Late in the afternoon we met in Carton's office, 
to compare notes on the progress made during the 

The District Attorney greeted us enthusiastically. 

" Well," he exclaimed as he dropped into his big 
office chair, " this has been a hard day for me but 
I've succeeded." 

" How? " queried Kennedy. 

"Of course the newspapers haven't got it yet," 
pursued Carton, " but it happened that there was a 
Grand Jury sitting and considering election cases. 
It went hard, but I made them consider this case of 
Dopey Jack. I don't know how it happened, but I 
seem to have succeeded in forcing action in record 
time. They have found an indictment on the elec 
tion charges, and if that falls through, we shall have 
time to set up other charges against him. In fact 
we are ' going to the mat,' so to speak, with this 

The office telephone rang and after a few sen 
tences of congratulation, Carton turned to us, his 
spirits even higher than before. " That was one of 
my assistants," he explained, " one of the cleverest. 
The trial will be before Judge Pomeroy in General 
Sessions and it will be an early trial. Pomeroy is 
one of the best of them, too about to retire, and 
wants to leave a good record on the bench behind 
him. Things are shaping up as well as we could 
wish for." 


The door opened and one of Carton's clerks 
started to announce the name of a visitor. 

11 Mr. Carton, Mr. ^" 

" Murtha," drawled a deep voice, as the owner of 
the name strode in, impatiently brushing aside the 
clerk. " Hello, Carton," greeted the Sub-boss ag 

" Hello, Murtha," returned Carton, retaining his 
good temper and seeing the humour of the situation, 
where the practice of years was reversed and the 
mountain was coming to Mahomet. " This is a 
little er informal but I'm glad to see you, 
nevertheless," he added quietly. " Won't you sit 
down? By the way, meet Mr. Kennedy and Mr. 
Jameson. Is there anything I can do for you? " 

Murtha shook hands with us suspiciously, but did 
not sit down. He continued to stand, his hat tilted 
back over his head and his huge hands jammed 
down into his trousers pockets. 

" What's this I hear about Jack Rubano, Car 
ton?" he opened fire. "They tell me you have 
arrested him and secured an indictment." 

" They tell the truth," returned Carton shortly. 
" The Grand Jury indicted Dopey Jack this after 
noon. The trial " 

" Dopey Jack," quoted Murtha in disgusted tones. 
" That's the way it is nowadays. Give a dog a bad 
name why, I suppose this bad name's going to 
stick to him all his life, now. It ain't right. You 
know, Carton, as well as I do that if they charged 
him with just plain fighting and got him before a 


jury, all you would have to say would be, ' Gentle 
men, the defendant at the bar is the notorious gang 
ster, Dopey Jack.' And the jurors wouldn't wait to 
hear any more, but'd say, e Guilty ! ' just like that. 
And he'd go up the river for the top term. That's 
what a boy like that gets once the papers give him 
such an awful reputation. It's fierce ! " 

Carton shook his head. " Oh, Murtha," he 
remonstrated with just a twinkle in his eye, " you 
don't think I believe that sort of soft stuff, do you ? 
I've had my eye on this ' boy ' he's twenty-eight, 
by the way too long. You needn't tell me any 
thing about his respectable old father and his sor 
rowing mother and weeping sister. Murtha, I've 
been in this business too long for that heart throb 
stuff. Leave that to the lawyers the System will hire 
for him. Let's cut that out, between ourselves, and 
get down to brass tacks." 

It was a new and awkward role for Murtha as 
suppliant, and he evidently did not relish it. Aside 
from his own interest in Dopey Jack, who was one 
of his indispensables, it was apparent that he came 
as an emissary from Dorgan himself to spy out the 
land and perhaps reach some kind of understanding. 

He glanced about at us, with a look that broadly 
hinted that he would prefer to see Carton alone. 
Carton made no move to ask us to leave and Ken 
nedy met the boss's look calmly. Murtha smoth 
ered his rage, although I knew he would with pleas 
ure have had us stuck up or blackjacked. 

" See here, Carton," he blurted out at length, ap- 


preaching the desk of the District Attorney and low 
ering his big voice as much as he was capable, " can't 
we reach some kind of agreement between our 
selves? You let up on Rubano and well, I might 
be able to get some of my friends to let up on Car 
ton. See?" 

He was conveying as guardedly as he could a 
proposal that if the District Attorney would consent 
to turn his back while the law stumbled in one of the 
numerous pitfalls that beset a criminal prosecution, 
the organization would deliver the goods, quietly 
pass the word along to knife its own man and allow 
Carton to be re-elected. 

I studied Carton's face intently. To a man of an 
other stripe, the proposal might have been alluring. 
It meant that although the organization ticket won, 
he would, in the public eye at least, have the credit 
of beating the System, of going into office unham 
pered, of having assured beyond doubt what was at 
best only problematical with the Reform League. 

Carton did not hesitate a moment. I thought I 
saw in his face the same hardening of the lines of his 
features in grim determination that I had seen when 
he had been talking to Miss Ashton. I knew that, 
among other things, he was thinking how impossible 
it would be for him ever to face her again in the 
old way, if he sold out, even in a negative way, to 
the System. 

Murtha had shot his huge face forward and was 
peering keenly at the man before him. 

II You'll think it over? " he asked. 


" I will not I most certainly will not," returned 
Carton, for the first time showing exasperation, at 
the very assumption of Murtha. " Mr. Murtha," 
he went on, rising and leaning forward over the 
desk, " we are going to have a fair election, if I can 
make it. I may be beaten I may win. But I will 
be beaten, if at all, by the old methods. If I win 
it will be that I win honestly." 

A half sneer crossed Murtha's face. He neither 
understood nor cared to understand the kind of 
game Carton played. 

" You'll never get anything on that boy," blus 
tered Murtha. " Do you suppose I'm fool enough 
to come here and make a dishonest proposition 
here right in front of your own friends?" he 
added, turning to us. "-I ain't asking any favours, or 
anything dishonest. His lawyers know what they 
can do and what you can do. It ain't because I care 
a hang about you, Carton, that I'm here. If you 
want to know the truth, it's because you can make 
trouble, Carton, that's all. You can't convict him, 
in the end, because you can't. There's nothing 
4 on ' him. But you can make trouble. We'll win 
out in the end, of course." 

" In other words, you think the Reform League 
has you beaten? " suggested Carton quietly. 

" No," ejaculated Murtha with an oath. " We 
don't know but maybe you have us beaten. But not 
the League. We don't want you for District Attor 
ney, Carton. You know it. But here's a practical 
proposition. All you have to do is just to let this 


Rubano case take its natural course. That's all I 

He dwelt on the word " natural " as if it were 
in itself convincing. " Why," he resumed, " what 
foolishness it is for you to throw away all your 
chances just for the sake of hounding one poor fel 
low from the East Side. It ain't right, Carton, 
you, powerful, holding an important office, and he 
a poor boy that never had a chance and has made 
the most of what little nature gave him. Why, I've 
known that boy ever since he hardly came up to my 
waist. I tell you, there ain't a judge on the bench 
that wouldn't listen to what we can show about him 
hounded by police, hounded by the District Attor 
ney, driven from pillar to post, and " 

" You will have a chance to tell the story in court," 
cut in Carton. " Pomeroy will try the case." 

"Pomeroy?" repeated Murtha in a tone that 
quite disguised the anger he felt that it should come 
up before the one judge the System feared and could 
not control. " Now, look here, Carton. We're all 
practical men. Your friend er Kennedy, here, 
he's practical." 

Murtha had turned toward us. He was now the 
Murtha I had heard of before, the kind that can 
use a handshake or a playful slap on the back, as be 
tween man and man, to work wonders in getting ac 
tion or carrying a point. Far from despising such 
men as Murtha, I think we all rather admired his 
good qualities. It was his point of view, his method, 
his aim that were wrong. As for the man himself 


he was human in fact, I often thought far more 
human than some of the reformers. 

" I'll leave it to Kennedy," he resumed. " Sup 
pose you were running a race. You knew you were 
going to win. Would you deliberately stop and 
stick your foot out, in order to trip up the man who 
was coming in second?" 

" I don't know that the cases are parallel," re 
turned Kennedy with an amused smile. 

Murtha kept his good nature admirably. 

" Then you would stick your foot out and per 
haps lose the race yourself? " persisted Murtha. 

" I'll relieve Kennedy of answering that," inter 
rupted Carton, " not because I don't think he can 
do it better than I can, perhaps, but because this is 
my fight my race." 

"Well," asked Murtha persuasively, "you'll 
think it over, first, won't you? " 

Carton was looking at his opponent keenly, as if 
trying to take his measure. He had some scheme in 
mind and Kennedy was watching the faces of both 
men intently. 

" This race," began Carton slowly, in a manner 
that showed he wanted to change the subject, " is 
different from any other in the politics of the city 
as either of us have ever known it, Murtha." 

Murtha made as though he would object to the 
proposition, but Carton hurried on, giving him no 
chance to inject anything into the conversation. 

" It may be possible it is possible," shot out the 
young District Attorney, " to make use of secret 


records conversations at conferences dinners 
records that have been taken by a new invention 
that seems to be revolutionizing politics all over the 

The look that crossed Murtha's face was posi 
tively apoplectic. The veins in his forehead stood 
out like whipcords. 

He started to speak, but choked off the words 
before he had uttered them. I could almost read 
his mind. Carton had said nothing directly about 
the Black Book, and Murtha had caught himself 
just in time not to betray anything about it. 

" So," he shouted at last, " you are going to try 
some of those fine little scientific tricks on us, are 

He was pacing up and down the room, storming 
and threatening by turns. 

" I want to tell you, Carton," pursued Murtha, 
" that you're up against a crowd who were playing 
this game before you were born. You reformers 
think you are pretty smooth. But we know a thing 
or two about you and what you are doing. Be 
sides," he leaned over the desk again, " Carton, 
there ain't many men that can afford to throw 
stones. I admit my life hasn't been perfect but, 
then I ain't posing as any saint. I don't mind tell 
ing you that the organization, as you call it, is look 
ing into some of the things that you reformers have 
done. It may be that some of your people some 
of the ladies," he insinuated, " don't look on life in 
the broad-minded way that some of the rest do. 


Mind you I ain't making any threats, but when 
it comes to gossip and scandal and mud-slinging 
look out for the little old organization that's all ! " 

Carton had set his tenacious jaw. " You can go 
as far as you like, Murtha," was all he said, with a 
grim smile. 

Murtha looked at him a moment, then his manner 

" Carton," he said in a milder tone, at length, 
" what's the use of all this bluffing? You and I un 
derstand each other. These men understand life. 
It's a game that's what it is a game. Sometimes 
one move is right, sometimes another. You know 
what you want to accomplish here in this city. I 
show you a way to do it. Don't answer me," per 
sisted Murtha, raising a hand, " just think k 

Carton had taken a step forward, the tense look 
on his face unchanged. " No," he exclaimed, and 
we could almost hear his jaw snap as if it had been 
a trap. " No I'll not think it over. I'll not yield 
an inch. Dopey Jack goes to trial before election." 

As Carton bit off the words, Murtha became 
almost beside himself with rage and chagrin. He 
was white and red by turns. For a moment I feared 
that he might do Carton personal violence. 

" Carton," he ground out, as he reached the 
door, " you will regret this." 

" I hope not," returned the other summoning with 
a mighty effort at least the appearance of suavity. 
" Good-bye." 


The only answer was the vicious slam which 
Murtha gave the door. 

As the echo died, the District Attorney turned to 
us. " Apparently, then, Dorgan did not secure the 
Black Book," was all he said, " even supposing 
Dopey Jack planned and executed that robbery of 


a declaration of war," remarked Ken- 
nedy, as Carton resumed his seat at the desk 
unconcernedly after the stormy ending of the inter 
view with Murtha. 

" I suppose it is," agreed the District Attorney, 
" and I can't say that I am sorry." 

" Nor I," added Craig. " But it settles one 
thing. We are now out in what I call the * open ' 
investigation. They have forced us from cover. 
We shall have to be prepared to take quick action 
now, whatever move they may make." 

Together we were speculating on the various 
moves that the System might make and how we 
might prepare in advance for them. 

Evidently, however, we were not yet through 
with these indirect dealings with the Boss. The 
System was thorough, if nothing else, and prompt. 

We had about decided to continue our conference 
over the dinner table in some uptown restaurant, 
when the officer stationed in the hall poked his head 
in the door and announced another visitor for the 
District Attorney. 

This time the entrance was exactly the opposite to 
the bluster of Murtha. The man who sidled defer- 



entially into the room, a moment after Carton had 
said he would see him, was a middle-sized fellow, 
with a high, slightly bald forehead, a shifty expres 
sion in his sharp ferret eyes, and a nervous, self-con 
fident manner that must have been very impressive 
before the ignorant. 

" My name is Kahn," he introduced himself. 
" I'm a lawyer." 

Carton nodded recognition. 

Although I had never seen the man before, I 
recollected the name which Miss Kendall had men 
tioned. He was one of the best known lawyers of 
the System. He had begun his career as an " ambu 
lance chaser," had risen later to the dignity of a 
police court lawyer, and now was of the type that 
might be called, for want of a better name, a high 
class " shyster " unscrupulous, sharp, cunning. 

Shyster, I believe, has been defined as a legal 
knave, a lawyer who practises in an unprofessional 
or tricky manner. Kahn was all that and still 
more. If he had been less successful, he would 
have been the black sheep of the overcrowded legal 
flock. Ideals he had none. His claws reached out 
to grab the pittance of the poverty-stricken client as 
well as the fee of the wealthy. He had risen from 
hospitals to police courts, coroner's court, and crim 
inal courts, at last attaining the dignity of offices 
opposite an entrance to the criminal courts building, 
from which vantage point his underlings surveyed 
the scene of operations like vultures hovering over 
bewildered cattle. 


Carton knew him. Kahn was the leader among 
some score of men more or less well dressed, of 
more or less evil appearance, who are constantly 
prowling from one end to the other of the broad 
first floor of the criminal courts building during the 
hours of the day that justice is being administered 

These are the shyster lawyers and their runners 
and agents who prey upon the men and women 
whom misfortune or crime have delivered into the 
hands of the law. Others of the same species are 
wandering about the galleries on other floors of the 
building, each with a furtive eye for those who may 
be in trouble themselves or those who v seem to be in 
need of legal assistance for a relative or friend in 

Perhaps the majority of lawyers practising in the 
courts are reputable to the highest degree, and many 
of the rest merely to a safe degree. Many devote 
themselves to philanthropic work whenever a pris 
oner is penniless. But the percentage of shysters is 
high. Kahn belonged in the latter class, although 
his days of doing dirty work himself were 
passed. He had a large force of incipient shysters 
for that purpose. As for himself, he handled only 
the big cases in which he veneered the dirty work 
by a sort of finesse. 

Kahn bowed and smiled ingratiatingly. " Mr. 
Carton," he began in a conciliatory tone, " I have 
intruded on your valuable time in the interest of my 
client, Mr. Jack Rubano." 


" Huh! " grunted Carton. " So they've retained 
you, have they, Ike?" he mused familiarly, closely 
regarding the visitor. 

Kahn, far from resenting the familiarity, seemed 
rather to enjoy it and take it as his due measure 
of fame. 

' Yes, Mr. Carton, they have retained me. I 
have just had a talk with the prisoner in the Tombs 
and have gone over his case very carefully, sir." 

Carton nodded, but said nothing, willing to let 
Kahn do the talking for the present until he ex 
posed his hand. 

" He has told me all about his case," pursued 
Kahn evenly. " It is not such a bad case. I can 
tell you that, Mr. Carton, because I didn't have to 
resort to the ' friend of the judge ' gag in order to 
show him that he had a good chance." 

Kahn looked knowingly at Carton. At least he 
was frank about his own game before us; in fact, 
utterly shameless, it seemed to me. Probably it was 
because he knew it was no use, that Carton had 
no illusions about him. Still, there was an un 
canny bravado about it all. Kahn was indeed very 
successful in making the worst appear the better 
reason. He knew it and knew that Carton knew it. 
That was his stock in trade. 

He had seated himself in a chair by the District 
Attorney's desk and as he talked was hitching it 
closer and closer, for men of Kahn's stamp seem 
unable to talk without getting into almost personal 
contact with those with whom they are talking. 


Carton drew back and folded his hands back of his 
head as he listened, still silent. 

" You know, Mr. Carton," he insinuated, " it is 
a very different thing to be sure in your own mind 
that a man is guilty from being able to prove it in 
court. There are all sorts of delays that may be 
granted, witnesses are hard to hold together, in 
fact there are many difficulties that arise in the best 
of cases." 

" You don't need to tell me that, Kahn," replied 
Carton quietly. 

" I know it, Mr. Carton," rejoined the other 
apologetically. " I was just using that as a preface 
to what I have to say." 

He took another hitch of the chair nearer Carton 
and lowered his voice impressively. " The point, 
sir, at which I am driving is simply this. There 
must be some way in which we can reach an agree 
ment, compromise this case, satisfactorily to the 
people with a minimum of time and expense some 
way in which the indictment or the pleadings can be 
amended so that it can be wound up and you un 
derstand both of us win instead of dragging it 
out and perhaps you losing the case in the end." 

Carton shook his head. " No, Kahn," he said in 
a low tone, but firmly, " no compromise." 

Kahn bent his ferret eyes on Carton's face as if 
to bore through into his very mind. 

" No," added the District Attorney, " Murtha 
was just here, and I may as well repeat what I said 
to him although I might fairly assume that he 


went from this room directly across the street to 
your office and that you know it already. This case 
has gone too far, it has too many other ramifica 
tions for me to consent to relax on it one iota." 

Kahn was baffled, but he was cleverer than Mur- 
tha and did not show it. 

" Surely," he urged, " you must realize that it is 
not worth your while at such a critical time for your 
self to waste energies on a case when there are so 
many more profitable things that you could do. The 
fact is that I would be the last one to propose any 
thing that was not open and above board and to our 
mutual advantage. There must be some way in 
which we can reach an agreement which will be sat 
isfactory to all parties in interest, sir." 

" Kahn," repeated Carton a little testily, " how 
often must I repeat to you and your people that I 
am not going to compromise this case in any shape, 
form, or manner? I am going to fight it out on the 
lines I have indicated if I have to disrupt this entire 
office to get men to do it. I have plenty to do seek 
ing re-election, but my first duty is to act as public 
prosecutor in the office to which I have been already 
elected. Otherwise, it would be a poor recommenda 
tion to the people to return me to the same posi 
tion. No, you are merely wasting your time and 
ours talking compromise." 

Kahn had been surveying Carton keenly, now and 
then taking a shifty glance at Kennedy and myself. 

As Carton rapped out the last words, as if in the 
nature of an ultimatum, Kahn gazed at him in 


amazement. Here was a man whom he knew he 
could neither bribe, bully, or bulldoze. 

" You must consider this, too," he added point 
edly. " There has been a good deal of mud-slinging 
in this campaign. We may find it necessary to go 
back into the antecedents and motives of those who 
represent the people in this case." 

It was a subtle threat. Just what it implied I 
could not even guess, nor did Carton betray any 
thing by look or word. Carton had voluntarily 
placed himself in the open and in a position from 
which he could not retreat. Evidently, now, he was 
willing to force the fight, if the other side would 
accept the issue. It meant much to him but he did 
not balk at it. 

" No, Kahn," he repeated firmly, " no compro 

Kahn drew back a bit and hastily scanned the face 
of the prosecutor. Evidently he saw nothing in 
it to encourage him. Yet he was too smooth to 
let his temper rise, as Murtha had. By the same 
token I fancied him a more dangerous opponent. 
There was something positively uncanny about his 

Kahn rose slowly. " Then it is war without 
quarter? " asked Kahn shrewdly. 

" War without quarter," repeated Carton posi 

He withdrew quietly, with an almost feline tread, 
quite in contrast with the bluster of Murtha. I felt 
for the first time a sort of sinking sensation, as I 


began to realize the varied character of the assault 
that was preparing. 

Not so, Carton and Kennedy. It seemed that 
every event that more clearly defined our position 
and that of our opponents added zest to the fight 
for them. And I had sufficient confidence in the 
combination to know that their feelings were justi 

Carton silently pulled down and locked the top 
of his desk, then for a moment we debated where 
we should dine. We decided on a quiet hotel up 
town and, leaving word where we could be found, 
hurried along for the first real relaxation and re 
freshment after a crowded day's work. 

If, however, we thought we could escape even for 
a few minutes we were mightily mistaken. We had 
not fairly done justice to the roast when a boy in 
buttons came down the line of tables. 

" Mr. Carton please." 

The District Attorney crooked his finger at the 

" You're wanted at the telephone, sir." 

Carton rose and excused himself. 

The message must have given him food of an 
other kind, for when he returned after a long ab 
sence, he pushed aside the now cold roast and joined 
us in the coffee and cigars. 

" One of my men," he announced, " has been 
doing some shadowing for me. Evidently, both 
Murtha and Kahn having failed, they are resorting 
to other tactics. It looks as if they had in some 


way, probably from some corrupt official of the 
court or employee in charge of the jury list, ob 
tained a copy of the panel which Justice Pomeroy 
has summoned for the case." 

" It ought to be a simple thing to empanel an 
other set of talesmen and let these fellows serve in 
some other part of the court," I suggested, consider 
ing the matter hastily. 

" Much better to let it rest as it is," cut in Craig 
quickly, " and try to catch Kahn with the goods. It 
would be great to catch one of these clever fellows 
trying to ' fix ' the jury, as well as intimidate wit 
nesses, as he already hinted himself." 

" Just the thing," exclaimed Carton, whose keen 
sense of proportion showed what a valuable political 
asset such a coup would make in addition to its 
effect on the case. 

" We'll get Kahn right, if we have a chance," 
planned Craig. " You are acquainted more or less 
with his habits, I suppose. Where does Kahn hang 
out? Most fellows like him have a sort of Amen 
Corner where they meet their henchmen, issue or- 
dersj receive reports and carry on business that 
wouldn't do for an office downtown." 

' Why, I believe he goes to Farrell's has an in 
terest in the place, I think." 

Farrell's, we recognized, as a rather well-known 
all-night cafe which managed to survive the excise 
vicissitudes by dint of having no cabaret or en 

We finished the dinner in silence, Kennedy turn- 


ing various schemes over in his mind, and rejecting 
them one after another. 

" There's nothing we can do immediately, I sup 
pose," he remarked at length. " But if you and 
Carton care to come up to the laboratory with me, I 
might in time of peace prepare for war. I have a 
little apparatus up there which I think may fit in 
somehow and if it does, Mr. Kahn's days of jury 
fixing are numbered." 

A few minutes later, we found ourselves in Ken 
nedy's laboratory, where he had gathered together 
an amazing collection of paraphernalia in the war 
fare of science against crime which he had been 
waging during the years that I had known him. 

Carton looked about in silent admiration. As 
for myself, although one might have thought it was 
an old story with me, I had found that no sooner 
had I become familiar with one piece of apparatus 
to perform one duty, than another situation, en 
tirely different and unprecedented in our cases arose 
which called for another, entirely new. I had 
learned to have implicit confidence in Kennedy's 
ability to meet each new emergency with something 
fully capable of solving the problem. 

From a cabinet, Kennedy took out what looked 
like the little black leather box of a camera, with, 
however, a most peculiar looking lens. 


"T ET'S visit Farrell's," remarked Craig, after 

1 > looking over the apparatus and slinging it over 
his shoulder. 

It was early yet, and the theatres were not out, so 
that there were comparatively few people in the 
famous all-night cafe. We entered the bar cau 
tiously and looked about. Kahn at least was not 

In the back of this part of the cafe were several 
booths, open to conform to the law, yet sufficiently 
screened so that there was at least a little privacy. 

Above the booths was a line of transoms. 

" What's back there? " asked Kennedy, under his 

" A back room," returned Carton. 

" Perhaps Kahn is there," Craig suggested. 
;l Walter, you're the one whom he would least 
likely recognize. Suppose you just stick your head 
in the door and look about as quietly as you can." 

I lounged back, glanced at the records of sport 
ing events posted on the wall at the end of the bar, 
then, casually, as if looking for someone, swung the 
double-hinged door that led from the bar into the 
back room. 



The room was empty except for one man, turned 
sidewise to the door, reading a paper, but in a posi 
tion so that he could see anyone who entered. I had 
not opened the door widely enough to be noticed, 
but I now let it swing back hastily. It was Kahn, 
pompously sipping something he had ordered. 

" He's back there," I whispered to Kennedy, as I 
returned, excitedly motioning toward one of the 
transoms over the booths back of which Kahn was 

" Right there? " he queried. 

" Just about," I answered. 

A moment later Kennedy led the way over to the 
booth under the transom and we sat down. A 
waiter hovered near us. Craig silenced him quickly 
with a substantial order and a good-sized tip. 

From our position, if we sat well within the booth, 
we were effectually hidden unless someone pur 
posely came down and looked in on us. We watched 
Kennedy curiously. He had unslung the little black 
camera-like box and to it attached a pair of fine 
wires and a small pocket storage battery which he 

Then he looked up at the transom. It was far 
too high for us to hear through, even if those in 
the back room talked fairly loud. Standing on the 
leather wall seats of the booth to listen or even to 
look over was out of the question, for it would be 
sure to excite suspicion among the waiters, or the 
customers who were continually passing in and out 
of the place. 


Kennedy was watching his chance, and when the 
cafe emptied itself after being deluged between the 
acts from a neighbouring theatre, he jumped up 
quickly in the seat, stood on his toes and craned his 
neck through the diagonally opened transom. Be 
fore any of the waiters, who were busy clearing up 
the results of the last theatre raid, had a chance to 
notice him, Craig had slipped the little black box 
into the shadow of the corner. 

From it dangled down the fine wires, not notice 

" He's sitting just back of us yet," reported Ken 
nedy. " I don't know about that flaming arc light 
in the middle of the room, but I think it will be all 
right. Anyhow, we shall have to take a chance. It 
looks to me as if he were waiting for someone 
didn't it to you, Walter? " 

I nodded acquiescence. 

" He has wasted no time in getting down to 
work," put in Carton, who had been a silent specta 
tor of the preparations of Kennedy. " What's that 
thing you put on the ledge up there a detecta- 
phone? " 

Kennedy smiled. " No they're too clever to do 
any talking, at least in a place like this, I'm afraid," 
he said, carefully hiding the wires and the battery 
beside him in the shadow of the corner of the booth. 
" It may be that nothing will happen, anyhow, but 
if it does we can at least have the satisfaction of 
having tried to get something. Carton, you had 
better sit as far back in the booth as I am. The 


longer we can stay here unnoticed the better. Let 
Walter sit on the outside." 

We changed places. 

" Lawyers have been complaining to me lately," 
remarked Carton in a well modulated voice, " about 
jury fixing. Some of them say it has been going on 
on a large scale and I have had several of my 
county detectives working on it. But they haven't 
landed anything yet, except rumours, like this one 
about the Dopey Jack jury. I've had them out 
posing as jurymen who could be ' approached ' and 
would arrange terms for other bribable jurymen." 

" And you mean to say that that's going on right 
here in this city? " I asked, scenting a possible news 
paper story. 

" This campaign I have started," he replied, " is 
only the beginning of our work in breaking up the 
organized business of jury bribing. I mean to put an 
end to the work of what I have reason to believe 
is a secret ring of jury fixers. Why, I understand 
that the prices for * hanging ' a jury range all the 
way from five to five hundred dollars, or even 
higher in an important case. The size of the jury 
fixer's ' cut ' depends upon the amount the client is 
willing to pay for having his case made either a 
disagreement or a dismissal. Usually a bonus is 
demanded for a dismissal in criminal cases. But 
such things are very difficult to " 

" Sh ! " I cautioned, for from my vantage point I 
saw two men approaching. 

They saw me in the booth, but not the rest of us, 


and turned to enter the next one. Though they were 
talking in low tones, we could catch words and 
phrases now and then, which told us that we our 
selves would have to be very careful about being 

" We've got to be careful," one of them remarked 
in a scarcely audible undertone. " Carton has de 
tectives mingling with the talesmen in every court 
of importance in the city." 

The reply of the other was not audible, but Car 
ton leaned over to us and whispered, " One of 
Kahn's runners, I think." 

Apparently Kahn was taking extreme precautions 
and wanted everything in readiness so that whatever 
was to be done would go off smoothly. Kennedy 
glanced up at the little black leather box perched 
high above on the sill of the partition. 

" The chief says that a thousand dollars is the 
highest price that he can afford for ' hanging ' this 
jury providing you get on it, or any of your 

The other man, whose voice was not of the vi 
brating, penetrating quality of the runner, seemed 
to hesitate and be inclined to argue. 

' We've had 'em as low as five dollars," went on 
the runner, at which Carton exchanged a knowing 
glance with us. " But in a special case, like this, we 
realize that they come high." 

The other man grumbled a bit and we could 
catch the word, " risky." 

Back and forth the argument went. The runner, 


however, was a worthy representative of his chief, 
for at last he succeeded in carrying both his point 
and his price. 

" All right," we heard him say at last, " the chief 
is in the back room. Wait until I see whether* he is 

The runner rose and went around to the swinging 
door. From the other side of the transom we could, 
as we had expected, hear nothing. A moment later 
the runner returned. 

" Go in and see him," he whispered. 

The man rose and made his way through the 
swinging door into the back room. 

None of us said a word, but Kennedy was literally 
on his toes with excitement. He was holding the 
little battery in his hand and after waiting a few mo 
ments pressed what looked like a push button. 

He could not restrain his impatience longer, but 
had jumped up on the leather seat and for a moment 
looked at the black leather box, then through the 
half open transom, as best he could. 

"Press it press it!" he whispered to Carton, 
pointing at the push button, as he turned a little 
handle on the box, then quickly dropped down and 
resumed his seat. 

" Craig one of the waiters," I cried hurriedly. 

The outside bar had been filling up as the evening 
advanced and the sight of a man standing on one of 
the seats had attracted the attention of a patron. A 
waiter had followed his curious gaze and saw Ken 


With a quick pull on the wire, Kennedy jerked the 
black leather box from its high perch and deftly 
caught it as it fell. 

"Say what are youse guys doin', huh?" de 
manded the waiter pugnaciously. 

Carton and I had risen and stood between the 
man and Craig. 

The sound of voices in high pitch was enough to 
attract a crowd ever ready to watch a scrap. Mind 
ful of the famous " flying wedge " of waiters at Far- 
rell's for the purpose of hustling objectionable and 
obstreperous customers with despatch to the side 
walk, I was prepared for anything. 

The runner who was sitting alone in the next 
booth, leaned out and gazed around the corner into 

" Carton! " he shouted in a tone that could have 
been heard on the street. 

The effect of the name of the District Attorney 
was magical. For the moment, the crowd fell back. 
Before the tough waiters or anyone else could make 
up their minds just what to do, Kennedy, who had 
tucked the box into his capacious side pocket, took 
each of us by the arm and we shoved our way 
through the crowd. 

The head waiter followed us to the door, but 
offered no resistence. In fact no one seemed to 
know just what to do and it was all over so quickly 
that even Kahn himself had not time to get a glimpse 
of us through the swinging door. 

A moment later we had piled into a taxicab at 


the curb and were speeding through the now de 
serted streets uptown to the laboratory. 

Kennedy was jubilant. " I may have almost pre 
cipitated a riot," he chortled, " but I'm glad I stood 
up. I think it must have been at the psychological 

At the laboratory he threw off his coat and pre 
pared to plunge into work with various mysterious 
pans of chemicals, baths, jars, and beakers. 

"What is it?" asked Carton, as Kennedy care 
fully took out the dark leather box, shielding it from 
the glare of a mercury vapour light. 

" A camera with a newly-invented electrically 
operated between-lens shutter of great illumination 
and efficiency," he explained. " It has always been 
practically impossible to get such pictures as I 
wanted, but this new shutter has so much greater 
speed than anything else ever invented before, that 
it is possible to use it in this sort of detective work. 
I've proved its speed up to one two-thousandth of a 
second. It may or may not have worked, but if it 
has we've caught someone, right in the act." 

Kennedy had a " studio " of his own which was 
quite equal to the emergency of developing the two 
pictures which he had taken with the new camera. 

Late as it was, we waited for him to finish, just 
as we would have waited down in the Star office if 
one of our staff photographers had come in with 
something important 

At last Kennedy emerged from his workshop. As 
he did so, he slapped down two untoned prints. 


Both were necessarily indistinct owing to the con 
ditions under which they had had to be taken. But 
they were quite sufficient for the purpose, 

As Carton bent over the second one, which 
showed Kahn in the very act of handing over a roll 
of bills to the rather anemic man whom his runner 
had brought to him, Carton addressed the photo 
graph as if it had been Kahn himself. 

" I have you at last," he cried. " This is the end 
of your secret ring of jury fixers. I think that will 
about settle the case of Kahn, if not of Dopey Jack, 
when we get ready to spring it. Kennedy, make an 
other set of prints and let me lock them in a safe 
deposit vault. That's as precious to me as if it were 
the Black Book itself!" 

Craig laughed. " Not such a bad evening's work, 
after all," he remarked, clearing things up. " Do 
you realize what time it is? " 

Carton glanced perfunctorily at his watch. " I 
had forgotten time," he returned. 

" Yes," agreed Craig, " but to-morrow is another 
day, you know. I don't object to staying up all 
night, or even several nights, but there doesn't seem 
to be anything more that we can do now, and it may 
be that we shall need our strength later. This is, 
after all, only a beginning in getting at the man 
higher up." 

" The man highest up," corrected Carton, with 
elation as we parted on the campus, Kennedy and I 
to go to our apartment. 

" See you in the morning, Carton," bade Ken- 


nedy. " By that time, no doubt, there will be some 
news of the Black Book." 

We arrived at our apartment a few minutes later. 
On the floor was some mail which Kennedy quickly 
ran over. It did not appear to be of any importance 
that is, it had no bearing on the case which was 
now absorbing our attention. 

" Well, what do you think of that? " he exclaimed 
as he tore open one diminutive letter. " That was 
thoughtful, anyhow. She must have sent us that a 
few minutes after we left headquarters." 

He handed me an engraved card. It was from 
Miss Ashton, inviting us to a non-partisan suffrage 
evening at her studio in her home, to be followed 
by a dance. 

Underneath she had written a few words of 
special invitation, ending, " I shall try to have some 
people there who may be able to help us in the Betty 
Blackwell matter." 



IT was early the following morning that I missed 
Kennedy from our apartment. Naturally I 
guessed from my previous experiences with that 
gentleman that he would most likely be found at his 
laboratory, and I did not worry, but put the finish 
ing touches on a special article for the Star which I 
had promised for that day and had already nearly 

Consequently it was not until the forenoon that I 
sauntered around to the Chemistry Building. Pre 
cisely as I had expected, I found Kennedy there at 

I had been there scarcely a quarter of an hour 
when the door opened and Clare Kendall entered 
with a cheery greeting. It was evident that she had 
something to report. 

' The letter to Betty Blackwell which you sent 
to the Montmartre has come back, unopened," she 
announced, taking from her handbag a letter 
stamped with the post-office form indicating that the 
addressee could not be found and that the letter was 
returned to the sender. The stamped hand of the 
post-office pointed to the upper left-hand corner 
where Clare had written in a fictitious name and 



used an address to which she frequently had mail 
sent when she wanted it secret. 

" Only on the back," she pursued, turning the let 
ter over, " there are some queer smudges. What 
are they? They don't look like dirt." 

Kennedy glanced at it only casually, as if he had 
fully expected the incident to turn out as it did. 

" Not unopened, Miss Kendall," he commented. 
" We have already had a little scientific letter-open 
ing. This was a case of scientific letter-sealing. 
That was a specially prepared envelope." 

He reached down into his desk and pulled out 
another, sealed it carefully, dried it, then held it 
over a steaming pan of water until the gum was 
softened and it could be opened again. On the 
back were smudges just like those on the letter that 
had been returned. 

" On the thin line of gum on the flap of the envel 
ope," he explained, " I have placed first a coating 
of tannin, over which is the gum. Then on the part 
of the envelope to which the flap adheres when it is 
sealed I placed some iron sulphate. When I sealed 
the envelope so carefully I brought the two together 
separated only by the thin film of gum. Now when 
steam is applied to soften the gum, the usual method 
of the letter-opener, the tannin and the sulphate are 
brought together. They run and leave these blots 
or dark smudges. So, you see, someone has been 
found at the Montmartre, even if it is not Betty 
Blackwell herself, who has interest enough in the 
case to open a letter to her before handing it back 


to the postman. That shows us that we are on the 
right trail at least, even if it does not tell us who is 
at the end of the trail. Here's another thing: This 
4 Marie ' is a new one. We must find out about 

" At the Futurist Tea Room at four this after 
noon, when she meets our good friend, young Dr. 
Harris," reminded Clare. " Between cabarets and 
tea rooms I don't know whether this is work or 

" It's work, all right," smiled Kennedy, adding, 
" at least it would be if it weren't lightened by your 

It was the middle of the afternoon when Craig 
and I left the laboratory to keep our appointment 
with Miss Kendall at the Futurist Tea Room, where 
we hoped to find Dr. Harris's friend " Marie," who 
seemed to want to see him so badly. 

A long line of touring and town cars as well as 
taxicabs bore eloquent testimony not only to the 
popularity of this tea room and cabaret, but to the 
growth of afternoon dancing. One never realizes 
how large a leisure class there is in the city until 
after a visit to anything from a baseball game to a 
matinee and a dance. People seemed literally to 
be flocking to the Futurist. They seemed to like its 
congeniality, its tone, its " atmosphere." 

As we left our hats to the tender mercies of the 
" boys " who had the checking concession we could 
see that the place was rapidly filling up. 

" If we are to get a table that we want here, we'd 


better get it now," remarked Kennedy, slipping the 
inevitable piece of change to the head waiter. " If 
we sit over there in that sort of little bower we can 
see when Miss Kendall arrives and we shall not 
be so conspicuous ourselves, either " 

The Futurist was not an especially ornate place, 
although a great deal of money had evidently been 
expended in fitting it up to attract a recherche cli 

Our table, which Kennedy had indicated, was, as 
he had said, in a sort of little recess, where we could 
see without being much observed ourselves, although 
that seemed almost an impossibility in such a place. 
In fact, I noticed before we had had time to seat our 
selves that we had already attracted the attention of 
two show girls who sat down the aisle and were 
amusing themselves at watching us by means of a 
mirror. It would not have been very difficult to 
persuade them to dispense with the mirror. 

A moment later Clare Kendall entered and paused 
at the door an instant, absorbing the gay scene as 
only a woman and a detective could. Craig rose and 
advanced to meet her, and as she caught sight of 
us her face brightened. The show girls eyed her 
narrowly and with but slight approval. 

" We feel more at ease with a lady in the party," 
remarked Craig, as they reached the table and I 
rose to greet her. " Two men alone here are quite 
as noticeable as two ladies. Walter, I know, was 
quite uncomfortable." 

" To say nothing of the fact which you omitted," 


I retaliated, " that it is a pleasure to be with Miss 
Kendall even if we must talk shop all the time." 

Clare smiled, for her quick intuition had already 
taken in and dismissed as of no importance the two 
show girls. We ordered as a matter of course, then 
settled back for a long interval until the waiter out 
of the goodness of his heart might retrieve what 
ever was possible from the mob of servitors where 
refreshments were dispensed. 

" Opposite us," whispered Clare, resting her chin 
on her interlocked fingers and her elbows on the tip- 
edge of the table, " do you see that athletic-looking 
young lady, who seems to be ready for anything 
from tea to tango? Well, the man with her is 
Martin Ogleby." 

Ogleby was of the tall, sloping-shouldered variety, 
whom one can see on the Avenue and in the clubs 
and hotels in such numbers that it almost seems that 
there must be an establishment for turning them out, 
even down to a trademark concealed somewhere 
about them, " Made in England." Only Ogleby 
seemed a little different in the respect that one felt 
that if all the others were stamped by the same die, 
he was the die, at least. Compared to him many 
of the others took on the appearance of spurious 

" Dr. Harris," Craig whispered, indicating to us 
the direction with his eyes. 

Outside on a settee, we could see in the corridor 
a man waiting, restless and ill at ease. Now and 
then he looked covertly at his watch as if he ex- 


pected someone who was late and he wondered if 
anything could be amiss. 

Just then a superbly gowned woman alighted from 
a cab. The starter bowed as if she were familiar. 
It was evident that this was the woman for whom 
Harris waited, the " Marie " of the letter. 

She was a carefully groomed woman, as artificial 
as French heels. Yet indeed it was that studied 
artificiality which constituted her chief attraction. 
As Harris greeted her I noted that Clare was 
amazed at the daring cut of her gown, which ex 
cited comment even at the Futurist. 

Her smooth, full, well-rounded face with its dark 
olive skin and just a faint trace of colour on either 
cheek, her snappy hazel eyes whose fire was height 
ened by the penciling of the eyebrows, all were a 
marvel of the dexterity of her artificial beautifier. 
And yet in spite of all there was an air of unextin- 
guishable coarseness about her which it was difficult 
to describe, but easy to feel. 

" Her lips are too thick and her mouth too large," 
remarked Clare, " and yet in some incomprehensible 
way she gives you the impression of daintiness. 
What is it?" 

' The woman is frankly deceptive from the tip of 
her aigrette to the toes of her shoes," observed 

" And yet," smiled Clare, watching with interest 
the little stir her arrival had made among the rev 
ellers, " you can see that she is the envy of every 
woman here who has slaved and toiled for that same 


effect without approaching within miles of it or at 
tracting one quarter the notice for her pains that 
this woman receives." 

Dr. Harris was evidently in his element at the 
attention which his companion attracted. They 
seemed to be on very good terms indeed, and one 
felt that Bohemianism could go no further. 

They paused, fortunately, at a just vacated table 
around an " L" from us and sat down. For once 
waiters seemed to vie in serving rather than in 

By this time I had gained the impression that the 
Futurist was all that its name implied not up to 
the minute, but decidedly ahead of it. There was 
an exotic flavour to the place, a peculiar fascination, 
that was foreign rather than American, at seeing 
demi-monde and decency rubbing elbows. I felt sure 
that a large percentage of the women there were 
really young married women, whose first step down 
ward was truly nothing worse than saying they had 
been at their whist clubs when in reality it was tango 
and tea. What the end might be to one who let the 
fascination blind her perspective I could imagine. 

Dr. Harris and " Marie " were nearer the danc 
ing floor than we were, but seemed oblivious to it. 
Now and then as the music changed we could catch 
a word or two. 

He was evidently making an effort to be gay, to 
counteract the feeling which she had concealed as 
she came in, but which had the upper hand now that 
they were seated. 


" Won't you dance? " I heard him say. 

" No, Harry. I came here to tell you about how 
things are going." 

There was a harshness about her voice which I 
recognized as belonging exclusively to one class of 
women in the city. She lowered it as she went on 
talking earnestly. 

" It looks as though someone has squealed, but 

who " I caught in the fragmentary lulls of the 


" I didn't know it was as bad as that," Dr. Harris 

They talked almost in whispers for several mo 
ments while I strained my ears to catch a syllable, 
but without success. What were they talking about? 
Was it about Dopey Jack? Or did they know some 
thing about Betty Blackwell? Perhaps it was about 
the Black Book. Even when the music stopped they 
talked without dropping a word. 

The music started again. There was no mis 
taking the appeal that the rocking whirl of the 
rhythmic dance made. From the side of the table 
where Kennedy was seated he could catch an occa 
sional glimpse of the face of Marie. I noticed that 
he had torn a blank page off the back of the menu 
and with a stub of a pencil was half idly writing. 

At the top he had placed the word, " Nose," fol 
lowed by " straight, with nostrils a trifle flaring," 
and some other words I could not quite catch. Be 
neath that he had written " Ears," which in turn 
was followed by some words which he was setting 


down carefully. Eyes, chin, and mouth followed, 
until I began to realize that he was making a sort 
of scientific analysis of the woman's features. 

" I shall need some more " I caught as the 

music softened unexpectedly. 

A singer on the little platform was varying the 
programme now by a solo and I shifted my chair so 
as to get a better view and at the same time also a 
look at the table around the corner from us. 

As I did so I saw Dr. Harris reach into his 
breast pocket and take out a little package which he 
quickly handed to Marie. As their hands met, their 
eyes met also. I fancied that the doctor struggled 
to demagnetize, so to speak, the look which she gave 

' You'll come to see me afterwards ? " she 
asked, dropping the little package into her handbag 
of gold mesh and rattling the various accoutrements 
of beautification which tinkled next to it. 

Harris nodded. 

" You're a life saver to some " floated over 

to me from Marie. 

The solo had been completed and the applause 
was dying away. 

1 ... . . tells me he needs . ... . badly off 
,v . . don't forget to see ... r 

The words came in intervals. What they meant 
I did not know, but I strove to remember them. 
Evidently Marie and a host of others were depend 
ing on Harris for something. At any rate, it 
seemed, now that she had talked she felt easier in 


mind, as one does after carrying a weight a long 
time in secret. 

" Tanguez-vous?" he asked as the orchestra 
struck up again. 

" Yes thank you, Harry just one." 

We watched the couple attentively as they were 
alternately lost and found in the dizzy swaying 
mass. The music became wilder and they threw 
themselves into the abandon of the dance. 

They had been absorbed so much in each other 
and the unburdening of whatever it was she had 
wanted to tell him, that neither had noticed the other 
couple on the other side of the floor whose pres 
ence had divided our own attention. 

Martin Ogleby and his partner were not danc 
ing. It was warm and they were among the lucky 
ones who had succeeded in getting something besides 
a cheque from the waiters. Two tall glasses of gin 
ger ale with a long curl of lemon peel sepentining 
through the cracked ice stood before them. 

The dance had brought Dr. Harris and Marie 
squarely around to within a few feet of where 
Ogleby was sitting. As Harris swung around she 
faced Ogleby in such a way that he could not avoid 
her, nor could she have possibly missed seeing 

For a moment their eyes met. Not a muscle in 
either face moved. It was as if they were perfect 
strangers. She turned and murmured something to 
her partner. Ogleby leaned over, without the least 
confusion, and made a witty remark to his partner. 


It was over in a minute. The acting of both could 
not have been better if they had deliberately prac 
tised their parts. What did it mean? 

As the dance concluded I saw Ogleby glance 
hastily over in the direction of Marie. He gave a 
quick smile of recognition, as much as to say " Thank 

It was evident now that both Dr. Harris and 
Marie, whoever she was, were getting ready to 
leave. As they rose to move to the door, Kennedy 
quickly paid our own cheque, leaving the change to 
the waiter, and without seeming to do so we fol 
lowed them. 

Harris was standing near the starter with his hat 
off, apparently making his adieux. Deftly Ken 
nedy managed to slip in behind so as to be next 
in line for a cab. 

" Walter and I will follow Harris if they sepa 
rate," he whispered to Clare Kendall. " You follow 
the woman." 

The afternoon was verging toward dinner and 
people were literally bribing the taxicab starter. 
Our own cab stood next in line behind that which 
Harris had called. 

" I have certainly enjoyed this little glimpse of 
Bohemia," commented Kennedy to Miss Kendall as 
we waited. " I shouldn't mind if detective work 
took me more often to afternoon dances. There, 
they are going down the steps. Here's the cab I 
called. Let me know how things turn out. Good 
bye. Here chauffeur, around that way where 


that other cab is going the lady will tell you where 
to drive." 

Harris hesitated a moment as if considering 
whether to take a cab himself, then slowly turned 
and strolled down the street. 

We followed, slowly also. There was something 
unreal about the bright afternoon sunshine after the 
atmosphere of the Futurist Tea Room, where every 
thing had been done to promote the illusion of night. 

Harris walked along meditatively, crossing one 
street after another, not as if debating where he 
was going, but rather in no great hurry to get there. 

Instead of going down Broadway he swerved 
into Seventh Avenue, then after a few blocks turned 
into a side street, quickened his pace, and at last 
dived down into a basement under a saloon. 

It was a wretched neighbourhood, one of those 
which reminds one of the life of an animal under 
going a metamorphosis. Once it had evidently 
been a rather nice residential section. The move 
ment of population uptown had left it stranded to 
the real estate speculators, less desirable to live in, 
but more valuable for the future. The moving in 
of anyone who could be got to live there had led to 
rapid deterioration and a mixed population of whites 
and negroes against the day when the upward sweep 
of business should bring the final transformation 
into office and loft buildings. But for the present it 
was decaying, out of repair, a mass of cheap room 
ing-houses, tenements, and mixed races. 

The joint into which Harris had gone was the 


only evidence of anything like prosperity on the 
block, and that evidence was confined to the two 
entrances on the street, one leading into the ground 
floor and the other down a flight of steps to the 

" Do you want to go in? " asked Kennedy in a 
tone that indicated that he himself was going. 

Just then a negro, dazzling in the whiteness of 
his collar and the brilliancy of his checked suit, came 
up the stairs accompanied by a light mulatto. 

" It's a black and tan joint," Craig went on, " at 
least downstairs negro cabaret, and all that sort of 

" I'm game," I replied. 

We stumbled down the worn steps, past a swing 
ing door near which stood the proprietor with a 
careful eye on arrivals and departures. The place 
was deceiving from the outside. It really extended 
through two houses, and even at this early hour it 
was fairly crowded. 

There were negroes of all degrees of shading, 
down to those who were almost white. Scattered 
about at the various tables were perhaps half a 
dozen white women, tawdry imitations of the faster 
set at the Futurist which we had just left, the left 
overs of a previous generation in the Tenderloin. 
There was also a fair sprinkling of white men, 
equally degraded. White men and coloured women, 
white women and coloured men, chatted here and 
there, but for the most part the habitues were ne 
groes. At any rate the levelling down seemed to 


have produced something like an equality of races 
in viciousness. 

As we sat down at a table, Kennedy remarked: 
" They used to drift down to Chinatown, a good 
many of these relics. You used to see them in the 
old ' suicide halls ' of the Bowery, too. But that 
is all passing away now. Reform and agitation have 
closed up those old dives. Now they try to veneer 
it over with electric lights and bright varnish, but 
I suppose it comes to the same thing. After they 
are cast off Broadway, the next step lower is the 
black and tan joint. After that it is suicide, unless 
it is death." 

" I don't think this is any improvement over the 
the bad old 4ays," I ventured. 

Kennedy shook his head in agreement. " There's 
Harris, down there in the back, talking to someone, 
a white man, alone." 

A waiter came over to us grinning, for we had 
assumed the role of sightseers. 

" Who is that, 'way back there, with his chair 
tipped to the wall, talking to the man with his back 
to us?" asked Kennedy. 

" Ike the Dropper, sah," informed the waiter 
with obvious pride that such a celebrity should be 
harboured here. 

I looked with a feeling akin to awe at the famous 
character who, in common with many others of his 
type, had migrated uptown from the proverbial 
haunts of the gunmen on the East Side in search of 
pastures new and untroubled. 


Ike the Dropper may have once been a strong- 
arm man, but at present I knew that he was chiefly 
noted for the fact, and he and his kind were reputed 
to be living on the earnings of women to whom they 
were supposed to afford " protection." I reflected 
on the passing glories of brutality which had sunk 
so low. 

There were noise and life a plenty here. At a 
discordant box of a piano a negro performer was 
playing with a keen appreciation of time if of noth 
ing else, and two others with voices that might not 
have been unpopular in a decent minstrel show were 
rendering a popular air. They wore battered straw 
hats and a make-up which was intended to be gro 

From time to time, as the pianist was moved, he 
played snatches of the same music as that which we 
had heard at the Futurist, and between us and Har 
ris and Ike the Dropper several couples were one- 
stepping, each in their own sweet way. As the 
music became more lively their dancing came more 
and more to resemble some of the almost brutal 
Apache dances of Paris, in that the man seemed to 
exert sheer force and the woman agility in avoiding 
him. It was an entirely new phase of afternoon 
dancing, an entirely new " leisure class," this strange 
combination of Bohemia and Senegambia. 

At a table next to us, so near that we could almost 
rub elbows with them, sat a white man and a white 
woman. They had been talking in low tones, but I 
could catch whole sentences now and then, for they 


seemed to be making no extraordinary effort at con 

" He was framing a sucker to get away with a 
whole front," I heard the man say, " or with a poke 
or a souper, but instead he got dropped by a flatty 
and was canned for a sleep." 

" Two dips pickpockets," whispered Craig. 
" Someone was trying to take everything a victim 
had, or at least his pocketbook or watch, but in 
stead he was arrested by a detective and locked up 
over night." 

" Good work," I laughed. " You are ' some ' 

I looked at our neighbours with a certain amount 
of respect. Were they framing up something them 
selves? At any rate I felt that I would rather see 
them here and know what they were than to be 
jostled by them in a street car. The sleek pro 
prietor kept a careful eye on them and I knew that 
a sort of unwritten law would prevent them from 
trying on anything that would endanger their wel 
come in a joint none too savoury already. 

Nevertheless I was quite interested in the bits of 
pickpocket argot that floated across to us, expres 
sions like " crossing the mit," " nipping a slang," a 
" mouthpiece," " making a holler " and innumer 
able other choice bits as unintelligible to me as 
" Beowulf." 

After a few minutes the woman got up and went 
out, leaving the man still sitting at the table. Of 
course it was none of my business what they were 


doing, I suppose, but I could not help being inter 

That diversion being ended, I joined Kennedy 
in his scrutiny of Harris and his choice friend. Of 
course at our distance it was absolutely impossible 
to gain any idea of what they were talking about, 
and indeed our chief concern was not to attract any 
attention. Whatever it was, they were very earnest 
about it and paid no attention to us. 

The dancing had ceased and the two " artists " 
were entertaining the select audience with some 
choice bits of ragtime. We could see Ike the Drop 
per and Dr. Harris still talking. 

Suddenly Kennedy nudged me. I looked up in 
time to see Dr. Harris reach into his inside breast 
pocket again and quietly slip out a package much 
like that which we had already seen him hand to 
Marie at the Futurist. Ike took it, looked at it a 
moment with some satisfaction, then stuffed it down 
carefully into the right-hand outside pocket of his 

" I wonder what that is that Harris seems to be 
passing out to them? " mused Craig. 

" Drugs, perhaps," I ventured offhand. 

" Maybe. I'd like to know for certain." 

Just then Harris and Ike rose and walked down 
on the other side of the place toward the door. 
Kennedy turned his head so that even if they should 
look in our direction they would not see his face. I 
did the same. Fortunately neither seemed inter 
ested in the other occupants. Harris having evi- 


dently fulfilled his mission, whether of delivering 
the package or receiving news which Ike seemed to 
be pouring into his ear, had but one thought, to 
escape from a place which was evidently distasteful 
to him. At the door they paused for a moment and 
spoke with the proprietor. He nodded reassuringly 
once or twice to Dr. Harris, much to the relief, I 
thought, of that gentleman. 

Kennedy was chafing under the restraint which 
kept him in the background and prevented any of his 
wizardry of mechanical eavesdropping. I fancied 
that his roving eye was considering various means 
of utilizing his seemingly inexhaustible ingenuity if 
occasion should arise. 

At last Harris managed to shake hands good-bye 
and disappeared up the steps to the sidewalk still 
followed by Ike. 

Kennedy leaned over and looked the " dip " sit 
ting alone back of us squarely in the face. 

" Would you like to make twenty-five dollars 
just like that? " he asked with a quick gesture that 
accorded very well with the slang. 

The man looked at him very suspiciously, as if 
considering what kind of new game this was. 

" That was your gun moll who just went out, 
wasn't it? " pursued Kennedy with assurance. 

" Aw, come off. Whatyer givin' us? " responded 
the man half angrily. 

" Don't stall. I know. I'm not one of the bulls, 
either. It's just a plain proposition. Will you or 
won't you take twenty-five of easy money? " 


Kennedy's manner seemed to mystify him. For 
a moment he looked us over, then seemed to decide 
that we were all right. 

" How? " he asked in a harsh but not wholly un 
gracious whisper. " I'll tip yer off if the boss is 
lookin'. He don't like no frame-ups in here." 

' You saw Ike the Dropper go out with that 

' The guy with the glasses? " 

" Yes." 


' The guy with the glasses gave Ike a little pack 
age which Ike put into the right-hand outside pocket 
of his coat. Now it's worth twenty-five beans to me 
to get that package get me? " 

" I gotyer. Slip me a five now and the other 
twenty if I get it." 

Kennedy appeared to consider. 

" I'm on the level," pursued the dip. " Me and 
the goil is in hard luck with a mouthpiece who wants 
fifty bucks to beat the case for one of the best tools 
we ever had in our mob that they got right to-day." 

" From that I take it that one of your pals needs 
fifty dollars for a lawyer to get him out of jail. 
Well, I'll take a chance. Bring the package to me at 
well, the Prince Henry cafe. I'll be there at 
seven o'clock." 

The pickpocket nodded, slid from his place and 
sidled out of the joint without attracting any atten 

"What's the lay?" I asked. 


" Oh, I just want that package, that's all. Come 
on, Walter. We might as well go before any of 
these yellow girls speak to us and frame up some 
thing on us." 

The proprietor bowed as much as to say, " Come 
again and bring your friends." 


IKE was nowhere to be seen when we reached the 
street, but down the block we caught sight of 
Dr. Harris on the next corner. Kennedy hastened 
our pace until we were safely in his wake, then 
managed to keep just a few paces behind him. 

Instead of turning into the street where the Futur 
ist was, Harris kept on up Broadway. It was easy 
enough to follow him in the crowd now without be 
ing perceived. 

He turned into the street where the Little Mont- 
martre was preparing for a long evening of enter 
tainment. We turned, and to cover ourselves got 
into a conversation with a hack driver who seemed 
suddenly to have sprung from nowhere with the 
cryptic whisper, " Drive you to the Ladies' Club, 

Out of the tail of his eye Kennedy watched Har 
ris. Instead of turning into the Montmartre and his 
office, he went past to a high-stooped brownstone 
house, two doors away, climbed the steps and en 

We sauntered down the street and looked quickly 
at the house. A brass sign on the wall beside the 
door read, " Mme. Margot's Beauty Shop." 



" I see," commented Kennedy. " You know 
women of the type who frequent the Futurist and 
the Montmartre are always running to the hair- 
dressing and manicure parlours. They make them 
selves ' beautiful ' under the expert care of the vari 
ous specialists and beauty doctors. Then, too, they 
keep in touch that way with what is going on in the 
demi-monde. That is their club, so to speak. It is 
part of the beauty shop's trade to impart such in 
formation at least of a beauty shop in this neigh 

I regarded the place curiously. 

" Come, Walter, don't stare," nudged Kennedy. 
" Let's take a turn down to the Prince Henry and 
wait. We can get a bite to eat, too." 

I had hardly expected that the pickpocket would 
play fair, but evidently the lure of the remaining 
twenty dollars was too strong. We had scarcely 
finished our dinner when he came in. 

" Here it is," he whispered. " The house man 
here at the Prince Henry knows me. Slip me the 

Kennedy leisurely tore the wrappings from the 

" I suppose you have already looked at this first 
and found that it isn't worth anything to you com 
pared to twenty dollars. Anyhow, you kept your 
word. Hello what is it?" 

He had disclosed several small packets. Inside 
each, sealed, was a peculiar glistening whitish 


" H'm," mused Kennedy, " another job for the 
chemist. Here's the bankroll." 

" Thanks," grinned the dip as he disappeared 
through the revolving door. 

We had returned to the laboratory that night 
where Kennedy was preparing to experiment on the 
white powder which he had secured in the packet 
that came from Dr. Harris. The door opened and 
Clare Kendall entered. 

" I've been calling you up all over town," she 
said, " and couldn't find you. I have something 
that will interest you, I think. You said you wanted 
something written by Dr. Harris. Well, there 
L is." 

She laid a sheet of typewriting on the laboratory 

" How did you get it? " asked Kennedy in eager 

" When I left you at the Futurist Tea Room to 
follow that woman Marie in the cab, I had a good 
deal of trouble. I guess people thought I was 
crazy, the way I was ordering that driver about, 
but he was so stupid and he would get tangled up 
in the traffice on Fifth Avenue. Still, I managed 
to hang on, principally because I had a notion al 
ready that she was going to the Montmartre. Sure 
enough, she turned down that block, but she didn't 
go into the hotel after all. She stopped and went 
into a place two doors down Mme. Margot's 
Beauty Parlour." 

" Just where we finally saw Harris go," ex- 


claimed Kennedy. " I beg your pardon for inter 

" Of course I couldn't go in right after her, so 
I drove around the corner. Then it occurred to 
me that it would be a good time to stop in to see 
Dr. Harris when he was out. You know my 
experience with the fakers has made me pretty good 
at faking up ailments. Then, too, I knew that it 
would be easy when he was not there. I said I 
was an old patient and had an appointment and 
that I'd wait, although I knew those were not his 
regular office hours. He has an alleged trained 
nurse there all the time. She let me into his wait 
ing-room on the second floor in front you remem 
ber the private dining-rooms are in back. I waited 
in momentary fear that he would come back. You 
see, I had a scheme of my own. Well, I waited 
until at last the nurse had to leave the office for 
a short time. 

" That was my chance. I tiptoed over to his 
desk in the next room. On it were a lot of letters. 
I looked over them but could find nothing that 
seemed to be of interest. They were all letters 
from other people. But they showed that he must 
have quite an extensive practice, and that he is not 
over-scrupulous. I didn't want to take anything 
that would excite suspicion unless I had to. Just 
then I heard someone coming down the corridor 
from the elevator. I had just time to get back to 
a chair in the waiting-room when the door opened 
and there was that Titian from the office, you re- 


member. She saw me without recognizing me, went 
in and laid some papers on his desk. As soon as 
she was gone, I went in again and looked them over. 
Here was one that she had copied for him." 

Kennedy had been carefully scrutinizing the sheet 
of paper as she told how she obtained it. 

" It couldn't be better as far as our purposes are 
concerned," he congratulated. " It seems to con 
sist of some notes he had made and wished to pre^ 
serve about drugs." 

I leaned over and read: 

VERONAL. Diethylmalonyl or diethylbarbituric 
acid. A hypnotic used extensively. White, crys 
talline, odourless, slightly bitter. Best in ten to 
fifteen grain cachets. Does not affect circulatory 
or respiratory systems or temperature. Toxicity 
low: 135 gr. taken with no serious result. Unrea 
sonable use for insomnia, however, may lead to 

HEROIN. Constant use of heroin has been 
known to lead to 

I looked inquiringly at Kennedy. 

" Just some fragmentary notes which he had evi 
dently been making. Rather interesting in them 
selves as showing perhaps something of his practice, 
but not necessarily incriminating." 

While we were discussing the contents of the 
notes, Kennedy had laid over the typewritten sheet 
the rules and graduated strip of glass which he had 
used in examining the strange letter signed " An 


A moment later he pulled the letter itself from 
a drawer and laid the two pieces of writing side by 
side, comparing them, going from one to the other 

" People generally, who have not investigated 
the subject," he remarked as he worked, " hold the 
opinion that the typewriter has no individuality. 
Fortunately that is not true. The typewriting ma 
chine does not always afford an effective protection 
to the criminal. On the contrary, the typewriting 
may be a direct means of tracing a document to its 
source and showing it to be what it really is. This 
is especially true of typewritten anonymous letters. 
Without careful investigation it is impossible to 
say what can be determined from the examination 
of any particular piece of typewriting, but typewrit 
ing can often be positively identified as being the 
work of a certain particular typewriting machine 
and even the date of writing can sometimes be found 

He had been carefully counting something under 
the lens of a pocket glass. " Even the number of 
threads to the inch in the ribbon, as shown in the 
type impression, plainly seen and accurately meas 
ured by the microscope or in an enlarged photo 
graph, may show something about the identity of a 
disputed writing." 

He was pointing to a letter " r." Under the 
glass I noticed that there was a break in the little 
curl at the top. 

" Now if you find such a break in the same letter 


in another piece of typewriting, what would you 

" That they were from the same machine," I re 

" Not so fast," he cautioned. " True, it might 
raise a presumption that it was from the same ma 
chine. But the laws of chance would be against your 
enthusiasm, Walter." 

" Of course," I admitted on second thought. 

" It's just like the finger-print theory. There 
must be a sort of summation of individual charac 
teristics. Now here's a broken ( 1 ' and there is an 
' a ' that is twisted. Now, if the same defects are 
found in another piece of writing, that makes the 
presumption all the stronger, and when you have 
massed together a number of such characteristics 
it raises the presumption to a mathematical cer 
tainty, does it not? " 

I nodded and he went on. " The faces of many 
letters inevitably become broken, worn, or battered. 
Not only does that tend to identify a particular 
machine, but it is sometimes possible, if you have 
certain admitted standard specimens of writing cov 
ering a long period, to tell just when a disputed 
writing was made. There are two steps in such 
an inquiry, the first the determination of the fact 
that a document was written on a certain particular 
kind of machine and the second that it was written 
on a certain individual machine of that make. I 
have here specimens of the writing of all the leading 
machines. It is easy to pick out the make used, say 


in the ' Outcast ' letter. Moreover, as I said when 
I first saw that letter, it is in the regular pica type. 
So are they all, but as ninety-five per cent, use the 
pica style that in itself proved nothing." 

" What is that bit of ruled glass? " asked Clare, 
bending over the letters in deep interest. 

" In ordinary typewriting," replied Craig, " each 
letter occupies an imaginary square, ten to the inch 
horizontally and six to the inch vertically. Type 
writing letters are in line both ways. This ruled 
glass plate is an alinement test plate for detecting 
defects in alinement. I have also here another glass 
plate in which the lines diverge each at a very slightly 
different angle a typewriting protractor for meas 
uring the slant of divergence of various letters that 
have become twisted, so to speak. 

" When it is in perfect alinement the letter occu 
pies the middle of each square and when out of 
alinement it may be in any of the four corners, or 
either side of the middle position or at the top or 
bottom above or below the middle. That, you see, 
makes nine positions in all or eight possible diver 
gences from normal in this particular alone." 

Clare had been using the protractor herself, 
quickly familiarizing herself with it. 

" Another possible divergence," went on Kennedy, 
" is the perpendicular position of the letter in 
relation to the line. That is of great value in in 
dividualizing a machine. It is very seldom that 
machines, even when they are new, are perfect in 
this particular. It does not seem much until you 


magnify it. Then anyone can see it, and it is a 
characteristic that is fixed, continuous, and not much 
changed by variations in speed or methods of writ 

" Here's another thing. Typewriter faces are 
not flat like printing type, but are concaved to con 
form to the curve of the printing surface of the 
roller. When they are properly adjusted all por 
tions should print uniformly. But when they are 
slightly out of position in any direction the two 
curved surfaces of type and roller are not exactly 
parallel and therefore don't come together with 
uniform pressure. The result is a difference in in 
tensity in different parts of the impression." 

It was fascinating to see Craig at work over such 
minute points which we had never suspected in so 
common a thing as ordinary typewriting. 

" Then you can identify these letters positively? " 
asked Clare. 

" Positively," answered Craig. " If two machines 
of the same make were perfect to begin with and in 
perfect condition which is never found to be the 
case when they are critically examined the work 
from one would be theoretically indistinguishable 
from that of another until actual use had affected 
them differently. The work of any number of ma 
chines begins inevitably to diverge as soon as they 
are used. Since there are thousands of possible par 
ticulars in which differences may develop, it very 
soon becomes possible to identify positively the work 
of a particular typewriting machine." 


"How about the operator?" I asked curiously. 

" Different habits of touch, spacing, speed, ar 
rangement, and punctuation all may also tend to 
show that a particular piece of writing was or was 
not done by one operator. In other words, type 
writing individuality in many cases is of the most 
positive and convincing character and reaches a de 
gree of certainty which may almost be described 
as absolute proof. The identification of a typewrit 
ten document in many cases is exactly parallel to 
the identification of an individual who precisely 
answers a general description as to features, com 
plexion, size, and in addition matches a long de 
tailed list of scars, birthmarks, deformities, and 
individual peculiarities." 

Together we three began an exhaustive examina 
tion of the letters, and as Kennedy called off the 
various characteristics of each type on the standard 
keyboard we checked them up. It did not take long 
to convince us, nor would it have failed to convince 
the most sceptical, that both had come from the 
same source and the same writer. 

' You see," concluded Kennedy triumphantly, 
" we have advanced a long step nearer the solution 
of at least one of the problems of this case." 

Miss Kendall had evidently been thinking quickly 
and turning the matter over in her mind. 

" But," she spoke up quickly, " even that does 
not point to the same person as the author not the 
writer, but the author of the three pieces of writ- 


" No indeed," agreed Craig. ' There is much 
left to be done. As a matter of fact, there might 
have been one author, or there might have been 
two, although all the mechanical work was done by 
one person. But we are at least sure that we have 
localized the source of the writing. We know that 
it is from the Montmartre that the letter came. We 
know that it is in some way that that place and 
some of the people who frequent it are connected 
with the disappearance of Betty Blackwell." 

" In other words," supplied Clare, " we are going 
to get at the truth through that Titian-haired stenog 

" Exactly." 

Clare had risen to go. 

" It quite takes my breath away to think that we 
are really making such progress against the impreg 
nable Montmartre. At various times my investi 
gators have been piecing together little bits of infor 
mation about that place. I shall have the whole 
record put together to-night. I shall let you know 
about it the first thing in the morning." 

The door had scarcely closed when Kennedy 
turned quickly to me and remarked, " That girl has 
something on her mind. I wonder what it is? " 


WHAT it was that Clare Kendall had on her 
mind, appeared the following day. 

' There's something I want to try," she volun 
teered, evidently unable to repress it any longer. 
" I have a plan or half a plan. Don't you think 
it would be just the thing, under the circumstances, 
to ring up District Attorney Carton, tell him what 
we have accomplished and take him into our confi 
dence ? Perhaps he can suggest something. At any 
rate we have all got to work together, for there 
is going to be a great fight when they find out how 
far we have gone." 

" Bully idea," agreed Craig. 

Twenty minutes later we were seated in the Dis 
trict Attorney's office in the Criminal Courts Build 
ing, pouring into his sympathetic ear the story of 
our progress so far. 

Carton seemed to be delighted, as Kennedy pro 
ceeded to outline the case, at the fact that he and 
Miss Kendall had found it possible to co-operate. 
His own experience in trying to get others to work 
with the District Attorney's office, particularly the 
police, had been quite the reverse. 

" I wish to heaven you could get the right kind 


of evidence against the Montmartre gang," he 
sighed. " It is a gang, too a high-class gang. In 
fact well, it must be done. That place is a blot 
on the city. The police never have really tried to 
get anything on it. Miss Kendall never could, could 
you? I admit I never have. It seems to be under 
stood that it is practically impossible to prove any 
thing against it. They openly defy us. The thing 
can't go on. It demoralizes all our other work. 
Just one good blow at the Montmartre and we could 
drive every one of these vile crooks to cover." 

He brought his fist down with a thud on the desk, 
swung around in his chair, and emphasized his words 
with his forefinger. 

" And yet, I know as well as I know that you are 
all in this room that graft is being paid to the police 
and the politicians by that place and in fact by all 
those places along there. If we are to do anything 
with them, that must be proved. That is the first 
step and I'm glad the whole thing hinges on the 
Blackwell case. People always sit up and take no 
tice when there is something personal involved, 
some human interest which even the newspapers 
can see. That Montmartre crowd, whoever they 
are, must be made to feel the strong arm of the law. 
That's what I am in this office to do. Now, Ken 
nedy, there must be some way to catch those crooks 
with the goods." 

" They aren't ordinary crooks, you know," rumi 
nated Kennedy. 

u I know they are not. But you and Miss Kendall 


and Jameson ought to be able to think out a 

" But you see, Mr. Carton," put in Clare, " this 
is a brand new situation. Your gambling and vice 
and graft exposures have made all of them so wary 
that they won't pass a bill from their right to their 
left pockets for fear it is marked." 

Carton laughed. 

" Well, you are a brand new combination against 
them. Let me see; you want suggestions. Why 
don't you use the detectaphone get our own little 
Black Book?" 

Kennedy shook his head. 

" The detectaphone is all right, as Dorgan knows. 
It might work again. But I don't think I'll take 
any chances. No, these grafters wouldn't say 
' Thank you ' in an open boat in mid-ocean, for fear 
of wireless, now. They've been educated up to a 
lot of things lately. No, it must be something new. 
\Vhat do you know about graft up there? " 

" The people who are running those places in the 
fifties are making barrels of money," summarized 
Carton quickly. " No one ever interferes with 
them, either. I know from reliable sources, too, 
that the police are ' getting theirs.' But although I 
know it I can't prove it; I can't even tell who is 
getting it. But once a week a collector for the 
police calls around in that district and shakes them 
all down. By Jove, to-day is the day. The trouble 
with it all is that they have made the thing so un 
derground that no one but the principals know any- 


thing about it not even the agents. I guess you 
are right about the detectaphone." 

" To-day's the day, is it? " mused Craig. 

" So I understand." 

" I think I can get them with a new machine they 
never dreamed of," exclaimed Kennedy, who had 
been turning something over in his mind. 

He reached for the telephone and called the 

"Julius, please," he said when they answered; 
then, placing his hand over the transmitter, he 
turned to Clare. " That was your friend the Titian, 
Miss Kendall." 

" No friend of mine if she happens to remember 
seeing me in Dr. Harris's office the other day. Still, 
I doubt if she would." 

" Hello Julius? Good morning. How about 
a private dining-room for three, Julius?" 

We could not hear the reply, but Craig added 
quickly, " I thought there were two? " 

Evidently the answer was in the affirmative, for 
Craig asked next, " Well, can't we have the small 

He hung up the receiver with a satisfied smile 
after closing with " That's the way to talk. Thank 
you, Julius. Good-bye." 

" What was the difficulty? " I asked. 

; ' Why, I thought I'd take a chance and it took. 
Now figure it out for yourself. Carton says it's 
dough day, so to speak, up there. What is more 
natural than that the money for all those places 


leased to various people should be passed over in 
a place that is public and yet is not public? For 
instance, there is the Montmartre itself. Now think 
it out. Where would that be done in the Mont 
martre? Why, in one of the private dining-rooms, 
of course." 

" That seems reasonable," agreed Carton. 

" That was the way I doped it," pursued Craig. 
" I thought I'd confirm it if I could. You remem 
ber they told us to call up always if I wanted a 
private dining-room and it would be reserved for 
me. So it was the most natural thing in the world 
for me to call up. If they had said yes, I should 
have been disappointed. But they said no, and 
straightway I wanted one of those rooms the worst 
way. One seems to be engaged the large one. He 
said nothing about the other, so I asked him. Since 
I knew about it, he could hardly say no. Well, I 
have engaged it for lunch an early luncheon, too." 

" It sounds all right, as though you were on the 
right trail," remarked Carton. " But, remember, 
only the best sort of evidence will go against those 
people. They can afford to hire the best lawyers 
that money can retain. And be careful not to let 
them get anything on you, for they are fearful liars, 
and they'll go the limit to discredit you." 

" Trust us," assured Craig. " Now, Miss Ken 
dall, if you will give us the pleasure of lunching with 
you at the Montmartre again, I think we may be 
able to get the Judge just the sort of open and shut 
evidence he is after." 


" I shall be glad to do it. I'm ready now." 

Kennedy glanced at his watch. " It's a little early 
yet. If we take a taxi cab we shall have plenty of 
time to stop at the laboratory on our way." 

Arriving at the laboratory, he went to a drawer, 
from which he took a little box which contained a 
long tube, and carefully placed it in the breast pocket 
of his coat. Then from a chest of tools he drew 
several steel sections that apparently fitted to 
gether, and began stuffing the parts into various 

" Here, Walter," he said, " these make me bulge 
like a yeggman with his outfit under his coat. Can't 
you help me with some of these parts? " 

I jammed several into various pockets heavy 
pieces of metal and we were ready. 

Our previous visits to the Montmartre seemed to 
have given us the entree and the precaution of tele 
phoning made it even easier. Indeed, it appeared 
that about all that was necessary there was to be 
known and to be thought " right." We carefully 
avoided the office, where the stenographer might 
possibly have recognized Clare, and entered the 

" Is Dr. Harris in? " asked Craig, both by way 
of getting information and showing that he was no 

The black elevator boy gave an ivory grin. " No, 
sah. He done gone on one o' them things." 

Another question developed the fact that when 
ever Harris was away it was generally assumed 


that he was tinting the metropolis vermilion from 
the Battery to the Bronx. 

We passed down the hall to the smaller of the 
two dining-rooms, and as we went by the larger we 
could see the door open and that no one was there. 

We had ordered and the waiter had scarcely shut 
the door before Kennedy had divested himself of 
the heavy steel sections which he had hidden in his 
pockets. I did the same. 

With a quick glance he seemed to be observing 
just how the furniture was placed. The smaller 
dining-room was quite as elaborately furnished as 
the larger, though of course the furniture was more 

He moved the settee and was on his knees in a 
corner. " Let me see," he considered. " There 
was nothing on this side of the larger room except 
the divan in the centre." 

As nearly as he could judge he was measuring off 
just where the divan stood on the opposite side of 
the wall, and its height. Then he began fitting 
together the pieces of steel. As he added one to 
another, I saw that they made a sectional brace and 
bit of his own design, a long, vicious-looking affair 
such as a burglar might have been glad to own. 

Carefully he started to bore through the plaster 
and lath back of the settee and to one side of where 
the divan must have been. He was making just as 
small a hole as possible, now and then stopping to 

There was no noise from the next room, but a 


tap on the door 1 announced the waiter with luncheon. 
He shoved the settee back and joined us. The dis 
creet waiter placed the food on the table and de 
parted without a word or look. Kennedy resumed 
his work and we left the luncheon still untasted. 

The bit seemed to have gone through as Ken 
nedy, turning it carefully, withdrew it now and then 
to make sure. At last he seemed to be satisfied with 
the opening he had made. 

From the package in his breast pocket he drew a 
long brass tube which looked as if it might be a 
putty-blower. Slowly he inserted it into the hole 
he had bored. 

"What is it?" I asked, unable to restrain my 
curiosity longer. 

" I felt sure that there would be no talking done 
in that room, especially as we are in this one and 
anyone knows that even if you can't put a detecta- 
phone in a room, it will often work if merely placed 
against a wall or door, on the other side, in the 
next room. So I thought I'd use this instead. Put 
your eye down here." 

I did so and was amazed to find that through a 
hole less than a quarter of an inch in diameter the 
brass tube enabled me to see the entire room next 
to us. 

I looked up at Kennedy in surprise. " What do 
you think of this, Miss Kendall? " I asked, moving 
the settee out of her way. " What do you call it? " 

" That is a detectascope," he replied, " a little 
contrivance which makes use of the fish-eye lens. 


" Yes. The detectascope enables you to see what 
is going on in another room. The focus may be 
altered in range so that the faces of those in the 
room may be recognized and the act of passing 
money or signing cheques, for instance, may be de 
tected. The instrument is fashioned somewhat after 
the cytoscope of the doctors, with which the human 
interior may be seen." 

" Very remarkable," exclaimed Clare. " But I 
can't understand how it is possible to see so much 
through such a little tube. Why, I almost fancy 
I can see more in that room than I could with my 
own eyes if I were placed so that I could not move 
my head." 

Kennedy laughed. 

" That's the secret," he went on. " For instance, 
take a drop of water. Professor Wood of Johns 
Hopkins has demonstrated recently the remarkable 
refracting power of a drop of water, using the 
camera and the drop of water as a lens. It is espe 
cially interesting to scientists because it illustrates 
the range of vision of some fishes. They have eyes 
that see over half a circle. Hence the lens gets 
its name ' the fish-eye lens.' A globe refracts the 
light that reaches it from all directions, and if it is 
placed as the lens is in the detectascope so that one 
half of it catches the light, all this light will be 
refracted through it. Ordinary lenses, because of 
their flatness, have a range of only a few degrees, 
the widest in use, I believe, taking in only ninety-six 
degrees, or a little over a quarter of a circle. So 


you see my detectascope has a range almost twice as 
wide as that of any other lens." 

The little tube was fascinating, and although there 
was no one in the next room yet, I could not resist 
the desire to keep on looking through it. 

" Since you are so interested, Walter," laughed 
Craig, " we'll appoint you to take the first shift at 
watching. Meanwhile we may as well eat since we 
shall certainly have to pay. When you are tired 
or hungry I'll take a turn." 

Kennedy and I had been taking turns at watching 
through the detectascope while Miss Kendall told 
us more about how she had come to be associated 
with the organization to clean up New York. 

" We have struck some delicate situations before," 
she was saying, " times when it meant either that 
we must surrender and compromise the work of the 
investigation or offend an interest that might turn 
out to be more powerful than we realized. Our 
rule from the start was, ' No Compromise.' You 
know the moment you compromise with one, all the 
others hear it and it weakens your position. We've 
made some powerful enemies, but our idea is that 
as long as we keep perfectly straight and honest 
they will never be able to beat us. We shall win 
in the end, because so far it has never come to a 
show-down, when we appealed to the public itself, 
that the public had not risen and backed us strongly." 

I had come to have the utmost confidence in 
Clare Kendall and her frank way of handling a 
ticklish yet most important subject without fear or 


prudishness. There was a refreshing newness about 
her method. It was neither the holier-than-thou 
attitude of many religionists, nor the smug monopoly 
of all knowledge of the social worker, nor the brutal 
wantonness of the man or woman of the world who 
excuses everything " because it is human nature, al 
ways has been and always will be." 

" We have no illusions on the subject," she pur 
sued. " We don't expect to change human nature 
until the individual standard changes. But we are 
convinced of this and it is as far as we go and 
is what we are out to accomplish and that is that 
we can, and are going to, smash protected, commer 
cialized vice as one of the big businesses of New 

" Sh-h," cautioned Kennedy, whose turn it hap 
pened to be just then to watch. " Someone has just 
entered the room." 

" Who is it? " I whispered eagerly. 

" A man. I can't see his face. His back is toward 
me, but there is something familiar about him. 
There he is turning around. For Heaven's sake 
it's Ike the Dropper ! " 

We had already recounted to Miss Kendall our 
Experiences in following Dr. Harris to the black and 
tan joint and the meeting with Ike the Dropper. 

" Then Ike the Dropper is the collector for the 
police or the politicians higher up," she exclaimed 
under her breath. " If we learned nothing more, 
that would be enough. It would tell us whom to 


Hastily we took turns at getting a good look at 
Ike through the wonderful little detectascope. Then 
Kennedy resumed his watch, whispering now and 
then what he saw. Apparently Ike had proceeded 
to make himself comfortable in the luxurious sur 
roundings of the private dining-room, against the 
arrival of the graft payers. 

" I wonder who the man higher up is," whispered 
Miss Kendall. 

" Someone is coming in," reported Kennedy. 
" By George, it is that stenographer from the office 
downstairs. She is handing him an envelope. Good 
for her ! He tried to kiss her and she backed away 
in disgust. The scoundrel! 

" Isn't it clever, though? Not a word is said by 
anyone. I don't suppose she could swear to know 
ing anything about what is in the envelope. There 
she goes out. He is opening the envelope and count 
ing out the money ten one-hundred-dollar bills. 
There they go into the fob pocket of his trousers. 
I imagined he learned something from my pick 
pocket. That is the safest pocket a man has. That 
little contribution, I take it, was from the Mont- 
martre itself." 

Then followed an interval in which Ike puffed 
away on his cigar in silent state. 

" Here's another now," announced Craig. " An 
other woman. I never saw her before." 

Both Miss Kendall and I looked and neither of 
us recognized her. She was slim and would have 
been young-looking if she had not made such obvious 




L. ."Of. 


:r. : -. 

If I : L 



ii-i : r i. 






spare, they might try to find out who she is and 
something of her history. I will give them a copy 
of these notes which I intend to turn over to the 
Department of Justice men who have been making 
the white slave investigation for the Federal Gov 

Kennedy had laid the notes which he had made 
on the menu before us and was copying them. Both 
Clare and I leaned over to read them. It was Greek 
to me : 

Nose straight, base elevated, nostrils thick, 
slightly flaring. 

Ears lobe descending oval, traversed by a hol 
low, antitragus concave ; lobe separated from cheek. 

Lips large. 

Mouth large. 

Chin receding. 

There was much more that he had jotted down 
and added to the description. 

" Oh," exclaimed Clare, as she ran through the 
writing, " that is this new portrait parle, the spoken 
picture, isn't it? " 

" Yes," replied Kennedy. ' You may know that 
the Government has been using it in its white slave 
inquiry and has several thousands of such descrip 
tions. Under the circumstances, I understand that 
the Government agents find it superior to finger 
prints. Finger-prints are all right for identification, 
as we have found right here, for instance, in the 
Night Court. But Bertillon's new portrait parle 
is the thing for apprehension." 


"What is it? "I asked. 

" Well, take the case before us. We have had 
no chance to finger-print that woman and what good 
would it do if we had? No one could recognize 
her that way until she was arrested or some means 
had been taken to get the prints again. 

" But the portrait parle is scientific apprehension, 
the step that comes before scientific identification by 
finger-prints. It means giving the detective an actual 
portrait of the person he is sent after without bur 
dening him with a photograph. As descriptions are 
now given, together with a photograph, a person 
is described as of such a weight, height, general ap 
pearance, and so on. A clever crook knows that. 
He knows how to change his appearance so that 
there are few even of the best detectives who can 
recognize him. This new system describes the fea 
tures so that a man can carry them in his mind 
systematically, features that cannot be changed. 

" Take the nose, for example," explained Ken 
nedy. ' There are only three kinds, as Bertillon 
calls them convex, straight, and concave. A de 
tective, we will say, is sent out after a man with a 
concave nose or, as in this case a woman with a 
straight nose. Thus he is freed from the necessity 
of taking a second glance at two-thirds of the women, 
roughly, that he meets that is, theoretically. He 
passes by all with convex and concave noses. 

" There are four classes of ears triangular, 
square, oval, and round, as they may be called. 
Having narrowed his search to women with straight 


noses, the detective needs to concern himself with 
only one-fourth of the women with straight noses. 
Having come down to women with straight noses 
and, say, oval ears, he will eliminate all those that 
do not have the mouth, lips, chin, eyes, forehead, 
and so on that have been given him. Besides that, 
there are other striking differences in noses and ears 
that make his work much easier than you would 
imagine, once he has been trained to observe such 
things quickly." 

" It sounds all right," I agreed haltingly. 

" It is all right, too," he argued warmly. " The 
proof of it is its use in Paris and other cities abroad 
and the fact that it has been imported here to New 
York in the Police Department and has been used 
by the Government. I could tell you many interest 
ing stories about how it has succeeded where photo 
graphs would have failed." 

I had been reading over the description again 
and trying to apply it. 

" For instance," Craig resumed thoughtfully. " I 
believe that this woman is a mulatto, but that is a 
long way from proving it. Still, I hope that by 
using the portrait parle and other things we may 
be able to draw the loose threads together into a 
net that will catch her providing, of course, that 
she ought to be caught." 

He had finished making copies of the portrait 
parle and had called for a cheque for the lunch. 

" So you see," he concluded, " this is without any 
doubt the woman we saw at the Futurist, whom 


Miss Kendall followed to Madame Margot's Beauty 
Shop, two doors down." 

Kennedy handed a copy to Miss Kendall. 

" Using that and whatever other means you may 
have, Miss Kendall," he said, " I wish that you 
would try to find this woman and all you can about 
her. Walter, take this other copy and see Carton. I 
think he has a county detective who knows the sys 
tem. I shall spend the rest of the day getting in 
touch with the Federal authorities in this city and 
in Washington trying to find out whether they know 
anything about her." 

We left the Montmartre with as much care as 
we had entered and seemingly without having yet 
aroused any suspicion. The rest of the day was 
spent in setting to work those whom we felt we 
could trust to use the portrait parle to locate the 
mysterious dark-haired Marie who seemed to cross 
our trail at every turn, yet who proved so elusive. 


MEANWHILE, the organization was using 
every effort to get possession of the Black 
Book, as Kennedy had suspected. 

Miss Ashton had been busy on the case of the 
missing Betty Blackwell, but as yet there was no 
report from any of the agencies which she had set 
in motion to locate the girl. She had seen Lang- 
horne, and, although she did not say much about 
the result of the interview, I felt sure that it had 
resulted in a further estrangement between them, 
perhaps a suspicion on the part of Langhorne that 
Carton had been responsible for it. 

In as tactful a way as possible, Miss Ashton had 
also warned Mrs. Ogleby of the danger she ran, 
but, as I had already supposed, the warning had 
been unnecessary. The rumours about the detecta- 
phone record of the dinner had been quite enough. 
As for the dinner itself, what happened, and who 
were present, it remained still a mystery, perhaps 
only to be explained when at last we managed to 
locate the book. 

Since the visit of Kahn, we had had no direct or in 
direct communications with either Dorgan or Mur- 



tha. They were, however, far from inactive, and 
I felt that their very secrecy, which had always been 
the strong card of the organization, boded no good. 
Although both Carton and Kennedy were straining 
every nerve to make progress in the case, there was 
indeed very little to report, either the next day or 
for some time after the episode which had placed 
Kahn in our power. 

Carton was careful not to say anything about the 
graphic record we had taken of Kahn's attempt to 
throw the case. It was better so, he felt. The jury 
fixing evidence would keep and it would prove all 
the stronger trump to play when the right occa 
sion arose. That time rapidly approached, now, 
with the day set for the trial of Dopey Jack. 

The morning of the trial found both Kennedy 
and myself in the part of General Sessions to which 
the case had been assigned to be tried under Justice 

To one who would watch the sieve through which 
justice vigorously tries to separate the wheat from 
the chaff, the innocent from the guilty, a visit to 
General Sessions is the best means. For it is fed 
through the channels that lead through the police 
courts, the Grand Jury chambers, and the District 
Attorney's office. There one can study the largest 
assortment of criminals outside of a penal institu 
tion, from the Artful Dodger and Bill Sykes, Fagin 
and Jim the Penman, to the most modern of noted 
crooks of fact or fiction, all done here in real flesh 
and blood. It is the busiest of criminal courts. 


More serious offenders against the law are sen 
tenced here than in any other court in New York. 
The final chapter in nearly every big crime is writ 
ten there, sooner or later. 

As we crowded in, thanks to the courtesy of Car 
ton, we found a roomy chamber, with high ceiling, 
and grey, impressive walls in the southeast corner 
of the second floor of the Criminal Courts Building. 
Heavy carved oaken doors afforded entrance and 
exit for the hundreds of lawyers, witnesses, friends, 
and relatives of defendants and complainants who 
flocked thither. 

Rows upon rows of dark-brown stained chairs 
filled the west half of the courtroom, facing a three- 
foot railing that enclosed a jury box and space re 
served for counsel tables, the clerk and the District 
Attorney representing the people. 

At the extreme east rose in severe dignity the 
dais or bench above which ascended a draped 
canopy of rich brown plush. Here Justice Pomeroy 
presided, in his robes of silk, a striking, white-haired 
figure of a man, whose face was seamed and whose 
eyes were keen with thought and observation. 

Across the street, reached by the famous Bridge 
of Sighs, loomed the great grey hulk of stone and 
steel bars, the city prison, usually referred to as 
" The Tombs." As if there had been some cunning 
design in the juxtaposition, the massive jail reared 
itself outside the windows as an object lesson. It 
was a perpetual warning to the lawbreaker. Its 
towers and projections jutted out as so many rocks 


on a dangerous shore where had been wrecked 
thousands of promising careers just embarked on 
the troublesome seas of life. 

Skirting the line of southern windows through 
which The Tombs was visible, ran a steel wire 
screen, eight feet high, marking off a narrow chute 
that hugged the walls to a door at the rear of the 
courtroom leading to the detention pen. Ordinarily 
prisoners were brought over the Bridge of Sighs 
in small droves and herded in the detention pens 
just outside the courtroom until their cases were 

The line-up of prisoners at such times awaiting 
their turn at the bar of justice affords ample oppor 
tunity for study to the professional or the amateur 

Almost daily in this court one might look upon 
murderers, bank looters, clever forgers, taxicab rob 
bers, safe crackers, highwaymen, second-story men, 
shoplifters, pickpockets, thieves, big and little all 
sorts and conditions of crooks come to pay the price. 

The court was crowded, for the gang leaders 
knew that this was a show-down for them. Carton 
himself, not one of his assistants, was to conduct 
the case. If Dopey Jack, who had violated almost 
every law in the revised statutes and had never suf 
fered anything worse than a suspended sentence, 
could not get off, then no one could. And it was 
unthinkable that Dopey should not only be arrested 
and held in jail without bail, but even be convicted 
on such a trivial matter as slight irregularities that 


swung the primaries in a large section of the city 
for his superior, " higher up." 

Rubano's father, a decent, sorrowing old man, 
sat in the rear of the courtroom, probably wonder 
ing how it had all happened, for he came evidently 
of a clean, law-abiding family. 

But there was nothing in the appearance of the 
insolent criminal at the bar to show that he was of 
the same breed. He was no longer the athlete, 
whom " prize fighting " had inculcated with princi 
ples of manliness and fair play as well as a strong 
body. All that, as I had seen often before, was a 
pitiful lie. He was rat-eyed and soft-handed. His 
skin had the pastiness that comes of more exposure 
to the glare of vile dance halls than the sunlight of 
day. His black hair was slicked down; he was 
faultlessly tailored and his shoes had those high, 
bulging toes which are the extreme of Fourteenth 
Street fashion. 

Outside, overflowing into the corridor, were 
'gangsters, followers and friends of Dopey Jack. 
Only an overpowering show of force preserved tht 
orderliness of the court from their boasting, brag 
ging, and threats. 

The work of selecting the jury began, and we 
watched it carefully. Kahn, cool and cunning, had 
evidently no idea of what Carton was holding out 
against him. In the panel I could see the anemic- 
looking fellow whom we had caught with the goods 
up at Farrell's. Carton's men had shadowed him 
and had learned of every man with whom he had 


spoken. As each, for some reason or other, was 
objected to by Carton, Kahn began to show exas 

At last the anemic fellow came up for examination. 
Kahn accepted him. 

For a moment Carton seemed to fumble among 
his papers, without even looking at the prospective 
juror. Then he drew out the print which Kennedy 
had made. Quietly, without letting anyone else see 
it, he deliberately walked to Kahn's table and showed 
it to the lawyer, without a word, in fact without any 
one else in the court knowing anything about it. 

Kahn's face was a study, as he realized for the 
first time what it was that Carton and Kennedy had 
been doing that night at Farrell's. He paled. His 
hand shook. It was with the utmost effort that he 
could control his voice. He had been cornered and 
the yellow streak in him showed through. 

In a husky voice he withdrew the juror, and Car 
ton, in the same cold, self-possessed manner re 
sumed his former position, not even a trace of a 
smile on his features. 

It was all done so quickly that scarcely a soul in 
the court besides ourselves realized that anything 
had happened. 

"Isn't he going to say anything about it?" I 
whispered to Craig. 

' That will come later," was all that Kennedy 
replied, his eyes riveted still on Carton. 

Though no one besides ourselves realized it, Car 
ton had thrown a bombshell that had demolished the 


defence. Others noticed it, but as yet did not know 
the cause. Kahn, the great Kahn by whom all the 
forces of the underworld had conjured, was com 
pletely unnerved. Carton had fixed it so that he 
could not retreat and leave the case to someone else. 
He had knocked the props from under his defence 
by uncannily turning down every man whom he had 
any reason of suspecting of having been approached. 
Then he had given Kahn just a glimpse of the evi 
dence that hinted at what was in store for himself 
personally. Kahn was never the same after that. 

Judge Pomeroy, who had been following the prog 
ress of the case attentively, threw another bomb 
shell when he announced that he would direct that 
the names of the jurors be kept secret until it was 
absolutely necessary to disclose them, a most un 
usual proceeding designed to protect them from re 
prisals of gangmen. 

At last the real trial began. Carton had been 
careful to see that none of the witnesses for the 
people should be " stiffened " as the process was 
elegantly expressed by those of Dopey Jack's class 
in other words, intimidated, bribed, or otherwise 
rendered innocuous. One after another, Carton 
rammed home the facts of the case, the fraudulent 
registration and voting, the use of the names of dead 
men to pad the polling lists, the bribery of election 
officials at the primaries the whole sordid, debas 
ing story of how Dopey Jack had intimidated and 
swung one entire district. 

It was clever, as he presented it, with scarcely 


a reference to the name of Murtha, the beneficiary 
of such tactics as though, perhaps, Murtha's case 
was in his mind separate and would be attended to 
later when his turn came. 

Rapidly, concisely, convincingly, Carton presented 
the facts. Now and then Kahn would rise to object 
to something as incompetent, irrelevant, and imma 
terial. But there was larking something in his 
method. It was not the old Kahn. In fact, one 
almost felt that Carton was disappointed in his ad 
versary, that he would have preferred a stiff, 
straight from the shoulder, stand-up fight. 

Now and then we could hear a whisper circulating 
about among the spectators. What was the matter 
with Kahn? Was he ill? Gangdom was in a daze 
itself, little knowing the smooth stone that Carton 
had slung between the eyes of the great underworld 
Goliath of the law. 

At last Carton's case was all in, and Kahn rose 
to present his own, a forced smile on his face. 

There was an attempt at a demonstration, but 
Judge Pomeroy rapped sharply for order, and alert 
court attendants were about to nip effectively any 
such outburst. Still, it was enough to show the 
undercurrent of open defiance of the court, of law, 
of the people. 

What it was no one but ourselves knew but Kahn 
was not himself. Others saw it, but did not under 
stand. They had waited patiently through the 
sledge-hammer pounding of Carton, waiting expect 
antly for Kahn to explode a mine that would de- 


molish the work of the District Attorney as if it 
had been so much paper. Carton had figuratively 
dampened the fuse. It sputtered, but the mine did 
not explode. 

Once or twice there were flashes of the old Kahn, 
but for the most part he seemed to have crumpled 
up. Often I thought he was not the equal of even 
a police court lawyer. The spectators seemed to 
know that something was wrong, though they could 
not tell just what it was. Kahn's colleagues whis 
pered among themselves. He made his points, but 
they lacked the fire and dash and audacity that once 
had caused the epigram that Kahn's appearance in 
court indicated two things the guilt of the accused 
and a verdict of acquittal. 

Even Justice Pomeroy seemed to notice it. Kahn 
had tried many a case before him and the old judge 
had a wholesome respect for the wiley lawyer. But 
to-day the court found nothing so grave as the 
strange dilatoriness of the counsel. 

Once the judge had to interfere with the remark, 
" I may remind the learned counsel for the defence 
that the court intends to finish this case before ad 
journment for the day, if possible; if not, then we 
shall sit to-night." 

Kahn seemed not to grasp the situation, as he 
had of old. He actually hurried up the presenta 
tion of the case, oblivious to the now black looks 
that were directed at him by his own client. If he 
had expected to recover his old-time equanimity as 
the case proceeded, he failed. For no one better 


than he knew what that little photograph of Car 
ton's meant disgrace, disbarment, perhaps prison 
itself. What was this Dopey Jack when ruin stared 
himself so relentlessly in the face in the person of 
Carton, calm and cool? 

At last the summing up was concluded and both 
sides rested. Judge Pomeroy charged the jury, I 
thought with eminent fairness and impartiality, even, 
perhaps, glossing over some points which Kahn's 
weak presentation might have allowed him to make 
more of if Kahn had been bolder and stronger in 
pressing them. 

The jury filed out and the anxious waiting began. 
On all sides was the buzz of conversation. Kahn 
himself sat silent, gazing for the most part at the 
papers before him. There must have been some 
wrangling of the jury, for twice hope of the gangsters 
revived when they sent in for the record. 

But it was not over an hour later when the jury 
finally filed back again into their box. As Judge 
Pomeroy faced them and asked the usual question, 
the spectators hung, breathless, on the words of the 
foreman as the jurors stood up silently in their 

There was a tense hush in the courtroom, as every 
eye was fastened on the face of the foreman. 

The hush seemed to embarrass him. But finally 
he found his voice. Nervously, as if he were taking 
his own life in his hands he delivered the verdict. 

" We find the defendant guilty as charged in the 
indictment! " 


Instantly, before anyone could move, the dignified 
judge faced the prisoner deliberately. 

" You have heard the verdict," he said colour 
lessly. " I shall sentence you Friday." 

Three court attendants were at Dopey Jack's side 
in a moment, but none too soon. The pent-up feel 
ing of the man idolized by blackmailers, and man- 
killers, and batteners on street-women, who held 
nothing as disgrace but a sign of respect for law or 
remorse for capture, burst forth. 

He cast one baleful look at Kahn as they hurried 
him to the wire-screened passageway. " It's all a 
frame-up a damned frame-up ! " he shouted. 

As he disappeared a murmer of amazement ran 
through the room. The unthinkable had happened. 
An East Side idol had fallen. 


"TT seems strange," remarked Kennedy the fol- 
JL lowing morning when we had met in his labora 
tory for our daily conference to plan our campaign, 
" that although we seem to be on the right trail 
we have not a word yet about Betty Blackwell her 
self. Carton has just telephoned that her mother, 
poor woman, is worrying her heart out and is a 
mere shadow of her former self." 

; ' We must get some word," asserted Miss Ken 
dall. ' This silence is almost like the silence of 

" I'm afraid I shall have to impose on you that 
task," said Kennedy thoughtfully to her. " There 
seems to be no course open to us but to transfer 
our watch from Dr. Harris to this Marie. Of 
course it is too early to hear from our search by 
means of the portrait parle. But we have both 
seen Dr. Harris and Marie enter the beauty par 
lour of Madame Margot. Now, I don't mean to cast 
aspersions on your own good looks, Miss Kendall. 
They are of the sort with which no beauty parlour 
except Nature can compete." 

A girl of another type than Clare would prob 
ably have read a half dozen meanings into his sin- 



cere compliment. But then, I reflected that a man 
of another type than Craig could not have made 
the remark without expecting her to do so. There 
was a frankness between them which, I must con 
fess, considerably relieved me. I was not prepared 
to lose Kennedy, even to Miss Kendall. 

She smiled. " You want me to try a course in 
artificial beautification, don't you?" 

" Yes. Walter doesn't need it, and as for me, 
nothing could make me a modern Adonis. Seri 
ously, though, a man couldn't get in there, I sup 
pose. At least that is one of the many things I 
want you to find out. Under the circumstances, 
you are the only person in whom I have confidence 
enough to believe that she can get at the facts there. 
Find out all you can about the character of the 
place and the people who frequent it. And if you 
can learn anything about that Madame Margot who 
runs the place, so much the better." 

" I'll try," she said simply. 

Kennedy resumed his tests of the powder in the 
packets which Dr. Harris had been distributing, and 
I endeavoured to make myself as little in the way 
as possible. 

It was not until the close of the afternoon that 
a taxicab drove up and deposited Miss Kendall at 
the door. 

"What luck?" greeted Kennedy eagerly, as she 
entered. " Do you feel thoroughly beautified? " 

" Don't make me smile," she replied, as she swept 
in with an air that would have done credit to the 


star in a comic opera. " I'd hate to crack or even 
crease the enamel on my face. I've been steamed 
and frozen, beaten and painted and " 

" I'm sorry to have been the cause of such cruel 
and unusual punishment," apologized Craig. 

" No, indeed. Why, I enjoyed it. Let me tell 
you about the place." 

She leaned against the laboratory table, cer 
tainly an incongruous picture in her new role as 
contrasted with the stained and dirty background 
of paraphernalia of medico-legal investigation. I 
could not help feeling that if Clare Kendall ever 
had decided to go in for such things, Marie herself 
would have had to look sharp to her laurels. 

" As you enter the place," she began, " you feel 
a delightful warmth and there is an odour of attar 
of roses in the air. There are thick half-inch car 
pets that make walking a pleasure and dreamy 
Sleepy Hollow rockers that make it an impossibility. 
It is all very fascinating. 

' There are dull-green lattices, little gateways 
with roses, white enamel with cute little diamond 
panes of glass for windows, inviting bowers of arti 
ficial flowers and dim yellow lights. It makes you 
feel like a sybarite just to see it. It's a cosmetic 
Arcadia for that fundamental feminine longing for 

; ' Well, first tijere are the little dressing-rooms, 
each with a bed, a dresser and mirror, and everything 
in such good taste. After you leave them you go 
to a white, steamy room and there they bake you. 


It's a long process of gentle showers, hot and cold, 
after that, and massage. 

" I thought I was through. But it seems that I 
had only just started. There was a battery of white 
manicure tables, and then the hairdressers and the 
artists who lay on these complexions what do you 
think of mine? I can't begin to tell all the secrets 
of the curls and puffs, and reinforcements, hygienic 
rolls, transformations, fluffy puffers, and all that, or 
of the complexions. Why, you can choose a com 
plexion, like wall-paper or upholstery. They can 
make you as pale as a sickly heroine or they can 
make you as yellow as a bathing girl. There is 
nothing they can't do. I asked just for fun. I 
could have come out as dusky as a gipsy. 

" They tried electrolysis on my eyebrows, and 
one attendant suggested a hypodermic injection of 
perfume. Ever hear of that? She thought 'new 
mown hay ' was the best to saturate the skin with. 
Then another suggested, as long as I had chosen 
this moonbeam make-up, that perhaps I'd like a 
couple of dimples. They could make them perma 
nent or lasting only a few hours. I declined. But 
there is nothing so wild that they haven't either 
thought of themselves or imported from Paris or 
somewhere else. I heard them discussing someone 
who wanted odd eyes made by pouring in certain 
liquids. They don't seem to care how they affect 
sight, hearing, skin, or health. It is decoration 
run mad." 

" How about the people there? " asked Kennedy. 


" Oh, I must tell you about that. There's so 
much to tell, I hardly know where to begin or 
stop. I saw some flashy people. You know one 
customer attracts her friends and so on. There is 
every class there from the demi-monde up to act 
resses and really truly society. And they have things 
for all prices from the comparatively cheap to the 
most extravagant. They're very accommodating 
and, in a way, democratic." 

"Did it seem straight?" asked Kennedy. 

" On the surface, yes, as far as I could judge. 
But I'll have to go back again for that. For in 
stance, there was one thing that seemed queer to me. 
I had finished the steaming and freezing and was 
resting. A maid brought a tray of cigarettes, those 
dainty little thin ones with gilt tips. There seemed 
to be several kinds. I managed to try some of 
them. One at least I know was doped, although I 
only had a whiff of it. I think after they got to 
know you they'd serve anything from a cocktail in 
a teacup to the latest fads. I am sure that I saw 
one woman taking some veronal in her coffee." 

"Veronal?" commented Craig. "Then that 
may be where Dr. Harris comes in." 

" Partly, I think. I've got to find out more about 
what is hidden there. Once I heard a man's voice 
and I know it was Dr. Harris's." 

" Harris ! Why, the elevator boy at the Mont- 
martre said he was painting the town," I observed. 

" I don't believe it. I think he has all he can do 
keeping up with the beauty shop. You see, it is 


more than a massage parlour. They do real deco 
rative surgery, as it is called. They'll engage to 
give you a new skin as soft and pink as a baby's. 
Or they will straighten a nose, or turn an ear. They 
have light treatment for complexions the ruby ray, 
the violet ray, the phosphorescent ray. 

" You would laugh at the fake science that is 
being handed out to those gullible fools. They can 
get rid of freckles and superfluous hair, of course. 
But they'll even tell you that they can change your 
mouth and chin, your eyes, your cheeks. I should 
be positively afraid of some of their electrical appli 
ances there. They sweat down your figure or build 
it up just as you please. 

" Oh, no one need be plain in these days, not as 
long as Madame Margot's exists. That is where 
I think Dr. Harris comes in. He can pose as a 
full-fledged, blown-in-the-bottle cosmetic surgeon. 
I'll bet there is no limit to the agonized beautifica- 
tion that they can put you through if they think 
they can play you for a sucker." 

" By the way, did you see Madame Margot her 
self? " asked Craig. 

" No. I made all sorts of discreet inquiries after 
her, but they seemed to know nothing. The nearest 
I could get was a hint from one of the girls that 
she was away. But I'll tell you whom I think I 
heard, talking to the man whose voice sounded like 
Dr. Harris's, and that was Marie. Of course I 
couldn't see, but in the part of the shop that looks 
like a fake hospital I heard two voices and I would 


wager that Marie is going through some of this 
beautification herself. Of course she is. You re 
member how artificial she looked? " 

" Did you see anyone else? " 

" Oh, yes. You know the place is two doors 
from the Montmartre. Well, I think they have 
some connection with that place between them and 
the Montmartre. Anyhow it looks as if they did, 
for after I had been there a little while a girl came 
in, apparently from nowhere. She was the girl we 
saw paying money to Ike the Dropper, you remem 
ber the one none of us recognized? There's 
something in that next house, and she seems to have 
charge of it." 

' Well, you have done a good day's work," com 
plimented Kennedy. 

" I feel that I have made a start, anyhow," she 
admitted. " There is a lot yet to be learned of 
Margot's. You remember it was early in the day 
that I was there. I want to go back sometime in 
the afternoon or evening." 

" Dr. Harris is apparently the oracle on beauty," 
mused Kennedy. 

' Yes. He must make a lot of money there." 

' They must have some graft, though, besides 
the beauty parlour," went on Kennedy. " They 
wouldn't be giving up money to Ike the Dropper if 
that was all there was." 

" No, and that is where the doped cigarette comes 
in. That is why I want to go again. I imagine it's 
like the Montmartre. They have to know you and 


think you are all right before you get the real inside 
of the place." 

" I don't doubt it." 

" I can't go around looking like a chorus girl," 
remarked Miss Kendall finally, with a glance at a 
little mirror she carried in her bag. " I'm afraid 
you'll have to excuse me until I get rid of this beau- 

The telephone rang sharply. 

As Kennedy answered, we gathered that it was 
Carton. A few minutes of conversation, mostly on 
Carton's part, followed. Kennedy hung up the re 
ceiver with an exclamation of vexation. 

" I'm afraid I did wrong to start anything with 
the portrait parle yet," he said. " Why, this thing 
we are investigating has so many queer turns that 
you hardly know whom to trust." 

"What do you mean?" 

" I don't know who could have given the thing 
away, but Carton says it wasn't an hour after the 
inquiries began about Marie that it became known 
in the underworld that she was being looked for in 
this way. Oh, they are clever, those grafters. They 
have all sorts of ways of keeping in touch. I sup 
pose they remember they had one experience with 
the portrait parle and it has made them as wary 
as a burglar is over finger-prints. Carton tells me 
that Marie has disappeared." 

" I could swear I heard her or someone at Mar- 
got's," said Clare. 

" And Harris has disappeared. Of course you 


thought you overheard him, too. But you may have 
been mistaken." 


" As nearly as Carton can find out," said Kennedy 
quickly, " Marie is Madame Margot herself." 


WANT to go to Margot's again to-day," vol- 
unteered Miss Kendall the following morning, 
adding with a smile, " You see, I've got the habit. 
Really, though, there is a mystery about that place 
that fascinates me. I want to find out more about 
this Marie, or Margot, or whoever it was that I 
thought I heard there. And then those doped cigar 
ettes interest me. You see, I haven't forgotten what 
you said about dope the first time we talked about 
Dr. Harris. They will be more free with me, too, 
now that I am no longer a stranger." 

" That is a good idea," agreed Kennedy, who 
was now chafing under the enforced inaction of the 
case. " I hope that this time they will let you into 
some of the secrets. There is one thing, though, 
I wish you'd look out for especially." 

;< What do you mean? " she asked. 

" I should like to know what ways there are of 
communicating with the outside. You realize, of 
course, that it is very easy for them, if they come 
to suspect you, to frame up something in a place 
like that. There are strong-arm women as well as 
men, and I'm not at all sure that there may not be 
some men besides Dr. Harris who are acquainted 



with that place. At any rate Dr. Harris is un 
scrupulous enough himself." 

" I shall make it a point to observe that," she 
said as she left us. " I hope I'll have something 
to tell you when I come back." 

" Walter," remarked Craig as the door closed, 
" that is one of the gamest girls I ever knew." 

I looked across at him inquiringly. 

" Don't worry, my boy," he added, reading my 
expression. " She's not of the marrying kind, any 
more than I am." 

The morning passed and half of the afternoon 
without any word from Miss Kendall. Kennedy 
was plainly becoming uneasy, when a hurried foot 
step in the hall was followed by a more hurried 
opening of the door. 

" Let me sit down, just a minute, to collect my 
self," panted Miss Kendall, pressing her hands to 
her temples where the blue veins stood out and lit 
erally throbbed. " I'm all in." 

"Why, what is the matter?" asked Kennedy, 
placing a chair and switching on an electric fan, 
while he quickly found a bottle of restorative salts 
which was always handy for emergencies in the 

"Oh such a time as I've had! Wait let me 
see whether I can recollect it in order." 

A few minutes later she resumed. " I went in, 
as before. There seemed to be quite a change in 
the way they treated me. I must have made a good 
impression the first time. A second visit seemed 


to have opened the way for everything. Evidently 
they think I am all right. 

" Well, I went through much the same thing as 
I did before, only I tried to make it not quite so 
elaborate, down to the point where several of us 
were sitting in loose robes in the lounging-room. 
That was the part, you know, that interested me 

" The maid came in with the cigarettes and I 
smoked one of the doped ones. They watch every 
thing that you do so closely there, and the moment 
I smoked one they offered me another. I don't 
know what was in them, but I fancy there must be 
just a trace of opium. They made me feel exhila 
rated, then just a bit drowsy. I managed to make 
away with the second without inhaling much of the 
smoke, for my head was in a whirl by this time. It 
wasn't so much that I was afraid I couldn't take 
care of myself as it was that I was afraid that it 
would blunt the keenness of my observation and I 
might miss something." 

" Besides the cigarettes, was there anything 
else?" asked Craig. 

" Yes, indeed. I didn't see anyone there I rec 
ognized, but I heard some of them talk. One was 
taking a little veronal ; another said something about 
heroin. It was high-toned hitting the pipe, if you 
call it that a Turkish bath, followed by massage, 
and then a safe complement of anything you wanted, 
taken leisurely by these aristocratic dope fiends. 

" There was one woman there who I am sure was 


snuffing cocaine. She had a little gold and enamelled 
box like a snuff box beside her from which she 
would take from time to time a pinch of some white 
crystals and inhale it vigorously, now and then tak 
ing a little sip of a liqueur that was brought in to 

" That's the way," observed Kennedy. ' There 
are always a considerable number of inhuman beings 
who are willing to make capital out of the weak 
nesses of others. This illicit sale of cocaine is one 
example. Such conditions have existed with the 
opium products a long time. Now it seems to be 
the * coke fiend.' " 

" I was glad I did just as I did," resumed Clare, 
" because it wasn't long before I saw that the thing 
to do was to feign drowsiness. A maid came over 
to me and in a most plausible and insinuating way 
hinted that perhaps I might feel like resting and 
that if the noise in the beauty parlour annoyed me, 
they had the entire next house the one next to 
the Montmartre, you know which had been fitted 
up as a dormitory." 

' You didn't go? " cut in Craig immediately. 

" I did not. I pleaded an engagement Why, 
the place is a regular dope joint." 

" Exactly. I suspected as much as you went along. 
Everything seems to have moved uptown lately, 
to have been veneered over to meet the fastidious 
second decade of the twentieth century. But under 
neath it all are the same old vices. I'm glad you 
didn't attempt to go into the next house. Anyhow, 


now we are certain about the character of the place. 
Did you notice anything about the means of com 
municating with the outside the telephones, for in 
stance? " 

Miss Kendall was evidently feeling much better 

" Oh, yes," she answered. " I took particular 
care to observe that. They have a telephone, but 
there is a girl who attends to it, although they don't 
really need one. She listens to everything. Then, 

too, in the other house You remember I spoke 

about the girl whom we saw paying Ike the Drop 
per? It seems that she has a similar position at 
the telephone over there." 

" So they have two telephones," repeated Craig. 

" Yes." 

" Good. There are always likely to be some des 
perate characters in places like that. If we ever 
have anyone go into that dope joint we must have 
some way of keeping in touch and protecting the 

Miss Kendall had gone home for a few hours of 
rest after her exciting experience. Craig was idly 
tapping with his fingers on the broad arm of his 

Suddenly he jumped up. " I'm going up there 
to look that joint over from the outside," he an 

We walked past the front of it without seeing 
anything in particular, then turned the corner and 
were on the Avenue. Kennedy paused and looked at 


a cheap apartment house on which was a sign, 
" Flats to Let." 

" I think I'll get the janitor to show me one of 
them," he said. 

One was on the first floor in the rear. Kennedy 
did not seem to be very much interested in the rent. 
A glance out of the window sufficed to show hint 
that he could see the back of the Montmartre and 
some of the houses. It took only a minute to hire 
it, at least conditionally, and a bill to the janitor 
gave us a key. 

" What are you going to do ? " 

" We can't do anything just yet, but it will be 
dark by the time I get over to the laboratory and 
back and then we can do something." 

That night we started prowling over the back 
fences down the street. Fortunately it was a very 
black night and Craig was careful not to use even 
the electric bull's-eye which he had brought over 
from the laboratory together with some wire and 
telephone instruments. 

As we crouched in the shadow of one of the 
fences, he remarked: "Just as I expected; the 
telephone wires run along the tops of the fences. 
Here's where they run into 72 that's the beauty 
parlour. These run into 70 that's the dope joint. 
Then next comes the Montmartre itself, reaching 
all the way back as far as the lot extends." 

We had come up close to the backs of the houses 
by this time. The shades were all drawn and the 
blinds were closed in both of them, so that we had 


really nothing to fear provided we kept quiet. Be 
sides the back yards looked unkempt, as if no one 
cared much about them. 

Kennedy flashed the electric bull's-eye momen 
tarily on the wires. They branched off from the 
back fence down the party fence to the houses, both 
sets on one fence. 

" Good ! " he exclaimed. " It is better than I 
hoped. The two sets go on up to the first floor 
together, then separate. One set goes into the 
beauty parlour; the other into the dope joint." 

Craig had quietly climbed up on a shed over the 
basements of both the houses. He was working 
quickly with all the dexterity of a lineman. To two 
of the four wires he had attached one other. Then 
to two others he attached another, all the connec 
tions being made at exactly corresponding points. 

The next step was to lead these two newly con 
nected wires to a window on the first floor of the 
house next to the Montmartre. He fastened them 
lightly to the closed shutter, let himself down to 
the yard again and we beat a slow and careful re 
treat to our flat. 

In one of the yards down near the corner, how 
ever, he paused. Here was an iron box fastened 
to one of the fences, a switch box or something of 
the sort belonging to the telephone company. To it 
were led all the wires from the various houses on 
the block and to each wire was fastened a little ticket 
on which was scrawled in indelible pencil the number 
of the house to which the wire ran. 


Kennedy found the two pairs that ran to 70 and 
72, cut in on them in the same way that he had done 
before and fastened two other wires, one to each 
pair. This pair he led along and into the flat. 

" I've fixed it," he explained, " so that anyone 
who can get into that room on the back of the first 
floor of the dope joint can communicate with the 
outside very easily over the telephone, without be 
ing overheard, either." 

"How?" I asked completely mystified by the 
apparent simplicity of the proceeding. 

" I have left two wires sticking on the outside 
shutter of that room," he replied. " All that any 
one who gets into that room has to do is to open the 
window softly, reach out and secure them. With 
them fastened to a transmitter which I have, he can 
talk to me in the flat around the corner and no one 
will ever know it." 

There was nothing more that we could do that 
night and we waited impatiently until Clare Ken 
dall came to make her daily report in the morning. 

" The question is, whom are we going to get 
whom we can trust to go to that dope joint and 
explore it?" remarked Kennedy, after we had fin 
ished telling Miss Kendall about our experiences of 
the night before. 

" Carton must have someone who can take a 
course in beauty and dope," I replied. " Or per 
haps Miss Kendall has one of her investigators 
whom she can trust." 

"If the thing gets too rough," added Craig, 


" whoever is in there can telephone to us, if she will 
only be careful first to get that back room in the 
' dormitory,' as they call it. Then all we'll have 
to do will be to jump in there and " 

" I'll do it," interrupted Clare. 

" No, Miss Kendall," denied Kennedy firmly. 

" Let me do it. There is no one whom I can trust 
more than myself. Besides, I know the places now." 

She said it with an air of quiet determination, as 
if she had been thinking it over ever since she re 
turned from her visit of the day before. 

Kennedy and Miss Kendall faced each other for 
a moment. It was evident that it was against just 
this that he had been trying to provide. On her 
part it was equally evident that she had made up 
her mind. 

" Miss Kendall," said Kennedy, meeting her calm 
eye, " you are the most nervy detective, barring 
none, that it has ever been my pleasure to meet. I 
yield under protest." 

I must say that it was with a great deal of mis 
giving that I saw Clare enter Margot's. We had 
gone as far as the corner with her, had watched her 
go in, and then hurried into the unfurnished apart 
ment which Craig had rented on the Avenue. 

As we sat on the rickety chairs which we had bor 
rowed from the janitor under pretence of wanting 
to reach something, the minutes that passed seemed 
like hours. 

I wondered what had happened to the plucky 
girl in her devotion to the cause in which she had 


enlisted, and several times I could see from the ex 
pression of Craig's face that he more and more 
regretted that he had given in to her and had allowed 
her to go, instead of adhering to his original plan. 
From what she had told us about the two places, I 
tried to imagine what she was doing, but each time 
I ended by having an increased feeling of appre 

Kennedy sat grimly silent with the receiver of 
the telephone glued to his ear, straining his hearing 
to catch even the faintest sound. 

At last his face brightened. 

" She's there all right," he exclaimed to me. 
" Managed to make them think in the beauty par 
lour that she was a dope fiend and pretty far gone. 
Insisted that she must have the back room on the 
first floor because she was afraid of fire. She kept 
the door open so that she would not miss anything, 
but it was a long time before she got a chance to 
reach out of the window and get the wires and con 
nect them with the instruments I gave her. But it's 
all right now. 

" Yes, Miss Kendall, right here, listening to every 
thing you get a chance to say. Only be careful. 
There is no use spoiling the game by trying to talk 
to me until you have all that you think you can ob 
tain in the way of evidence. Don't let them think 
you have any means of communication with the 
outside or they'll go to any length to silence you. 
We'll be here all the time and the moment you think 
there is any danger, call us." 


Kennedy seemed visibly relieved by the message. 

" She says that she has found out a great deal al 
ready, but didn't dare take the time to tell it just 
yet," he explained. " By the way, Walter, while we 
are waiting, I wish you would go out and see whether 
there is a policeman on fixed post anywhere around 

Five minutes later when I returned, having located 
the nearest peg post a long block away on Broad 
way, Kennedy raised a warning hand. She was tele 
phoning again. 

" She says that attendants come and go in her 
room so often that it's hard to get a chance to say 
anything, but she is sure that there is someone hid 
den there, perhaps Marie or Madame Margot, who 
ever she is, or it may even be Betty Blackwell. They 
watch very closely." 

" But," I asked, almost in a whisper, as if some 
one over there might hear me, " isn't this a very 
dangerous proceeding, Craig? It seems to me you 
are taking long chances. Suppose one of the tele 
phone girls in either house, whom she told us keep 
such sharp watch over the wires, should happen to 
be calling up or answering a call. She would hear 
someone else talking over the wire and it wouldn't 
be difficult for her to decide who it was. Then 
there'd be a row." 

" Not a chance," smiled Kennedy. " No one exv 
cept ourselves, not even Central, can hear a word 
of what is said over these connections I have made. 
This is what is called a phantom circuit." 


" A phantom circuit? " I repeated. " What kind 
of a weird thing is that? " 

" It is possible to superimpose another circuit over 
the four telephone wires of two existing circuits, 
making a so-called phantom line," he explained, as 
we waited for the next message. " It seems fan 
tastic at first, but it is really in accordance with the 
laws of electricity. You use each pair of wires as 
if it were one wire and do not interfere in the least 
with them, but are perfectly independent of both. 
The current for the third circuit enters the two 
wires of one of the first circuits, divides, reunites, 
so to speak, at the other end, then returns through 
the wires of the second circuit, dividing and reunit 
ing again, thus just balancing the two divisions of 
the current and not causing any effect on either of 
the two original circuits. Rather wonderful, isn't 

" I should say that it was," I marvelled. " I am 
glad I see it actually working rather than have to 
believe it second hand." 

" It's all due to a special repeating coil of high 
efficiency absolutely balanced as to resistances, num 
ber of turns of wire, and so on which I have 

used Yes Miss Kendall we are here. Now 

please don't let things go on too far. At the first 
sign of danger, call. We can get in all right. You 
have the evidence now that will hold in any court 
as far as closing up that joint goes, and I'll take a 
chance of breaking into well, Hades, to get to you. 


" I guess it is Hades there," he resumed to me. 
" She has just telephoned that one of the dope fiends 
upstairs a man, so that you see they admit both 
men and women there, after all had become violent 
and Harris had to be called to quiet him before he 
ran amuck. She said she was absolutely sure, this 
time at least, that it was Harris. As I was saying 
about this phantom circuit, it is used a good deal 
now. Sometimes they superimpose a telephone con 
versation over the proper arrangement of telegraph 
messages and vice versa. 

"What's that?" cried Craig, suddenly breaking 
off. " They heard you talking that last time, and 
you have locked the door against them? They are 
battering it down? Move something heavy, if you 
can, up against it the bureau, anything to brace it. 
We'll be there directly. Come on, Walter. There 
isn't time to get around Broadway for that fixed 
post cop. We must do it ourselves. Hurry." 

Craig dashed breathlessly out on the street. I 
followed closely. 

" Hurry," he panted. " Those people haven't 
any use for anyone that they think will snitch on 

As we turned the corner, we ran squarely into a 
sergeant slowly going his rounds with eyes con 
veniently closed to what he was paid not to see. 

Kennedy stopped and grabbed his arm. 

" There's a girl up here in 72 who is being mis 
treated," he cried. " Come. You must help us get 
her out." 


" Aw, g'wan. Whatyer givin' us? 72? That's 
a residence." 

" Say look here. I've got your number. You'll 
be up on the most serious charges of your whole 
career if you don't act on the information I have. 
All of Ike the Dropper's money '11 go for attorney's 
fees and someone will land in Sing Sing. Now, 
come ! " 

We had gained the steps of the house. Outside 
all was dark, blank, and bare. There was every 
evidence of the most excessive outward order and 
decency not a sign of the conflict that was raging 

Before the policeman could pull the bell, which 
would have been a first warning of trouble to the 
inmates, Kennedy had jumped from the high stoop 
to a narrow balcony running along the front win 
dows of the first story, had smashed the glass into 
splinters with a heavy object which he had carried 
concealed under his coat, and was engaged in a 
herculean effort to wrench apart some iron bars 
which had been carefully concealed behind the dis 
creetly drawn shades. 

As one yielded, he panted, " No use to try the 
door. The grill work inside guards that too well. 
There goes another." 

Inside now we could hear cries that told us that 
the whole house was roused, that even the worst 
of the drug fiends had come at least partly to his 
senses and begun to realize his peril. From Mar- 
got's beauty parlour a couple of girls and a man 


staggered forth in a vain effort to seem to leave 

" Close that place, too, officer," cried Kennedy 
to the now astounded policeman. " We'll attend to 
this house." 

The sergeant slowly lumbered across in time to 
let two more couples escape. It was evident that 
he hated the job; indeed, would have arrested Ken 
nedy in the old days before Carton had thrown such 
a scare into the grafters. But Kennedy's assurance 
had flabbergasted him and he obeyed. 

Another bar yielded, and another. Together we 
squeezed in and found ourselves in a dark front 
parlour. There was nothing to distinguish it from 
any ordinary reception room in the blackness. 

Hurried footsteps were heard as if several peo 
ple were retreating into the next house. Down the 
hall we hastened to the back room. 

A second we listened. All was silent. Was Clare 
safe? It looked ominous. Still the door, partly 
battered in, was closed. 

" Miss Kendall ! " called Craig, bending down 
close to the door. 

"Is it you, Professor Kennedy?" came back a 
faint voice from the other side. 

" Yes. Are you all right? " 

There was no answer, but she was evidently tug 
ging at something which appeared to be a heavy 
piece of furniture braced against the door. At last 
the bolt was slipped back, and there in the doorway 
she swayed, half exhausted but safe. 


" Yes, all right," murmured Clare, bracing her 
self against the chiffonier which she had moved 
away from the door, " just a little shaky from the 
drugs but all right. Don't bother about me, now. 
I can take care of myself. I'll feel better in a minute. 
Upstairs that is where I think that woman is. 
Please, please don't I'm all right truly. Up 

Kennedy had taken her gently by the arm and 
she sank down in an easy chair. 

" Please hurry," she implored. " You may be 
too late." 

She had risen again in spite of us and was out in 
the lower hall. We could hear a footstep on the 

" There she goes, the woman who has been hid 
ing up there, Madame " 

Clare cut the words short. 

A woman had hastily descended the steps, evi 
dently seeing her opportunity to escape while we 
were in the back of the house. She had reached 
the street door, which now was open, and the flam 
ing arc light in front of the house shone brightly 
on her. 

I looked, expecting to see our dark-haired, olive- 
skinned Marie. I stared in amazement. Instead, 
this woman was fair, her hair was flaxen, her figure 
more slim, even her features were different. She 
was a stranger. I could not recollect ever having 
seen her. 

Again I strained my eyes, thinking it might be 


Betty Blackwell at last, but this woman bore no re 
semblance apparently to her. She looked older, 
more mature. 

In my haste I noted that she had a bandage about 
her face, as if she had been injured recently, for 
there seemed to be blood on it where it had worked 
itself loose in her flight. She gave one glance at 
us, and quickened her pace at seeing us so close. 
The bandage, already loose, slipped off her face 
and fell to the floor. Still she did not seem other 
than a stranger to me, though I had a half-formed 
notion that I had seen that face somewhere before. 
She did not stop to pick the bandage up. She had 
gained the door and was down the front step on 
the sidewalk before we could stop her. 

Taxicabs in droves seemed to have collected, like 
buzzards over a dead body. They were doing a 
thriving business carrying away those who sought 
to escape. Into one by which a man was waiting 
in the shadow the woman hurried. The man looked 
for all the world like Dr. Harris. An instant later 
the chauffeur was gone. 

The policeman had the front door of Madame 
Margot's covered all right, so efficiently that he was 
neglecting everything else. From the basement now 
and then a scurrying figure catapulted itself out and 
was lost in the curious crowd that always collects 
at any time of day or night on a New York street 
when there is any excitement. 

" It is of no use to expect to capture anyone 
now," exclaimed Craig, as we hurried back into the 


dope joint. " I hardly expected to do it. All I 
wanted was to protect Miss Kendall. But we have 
the evidence against this joint that will close it for 

He stooped and picked up the bandage. 

" I think I'll keep that," he remarked thought 
fully. " I wonder what that blonde woman wore 
that for?" 

" She must be up there," reiterated Clare, who 
had followed us. " I heard them talking, it seemed 
to me only the moment before I heard you in the 

The excitement seemed now to have the effect 
of quieting her unstrung nerves and carrying her 

" Let us go upstairs," said Kennedy. 

From room to room we hurried in the darkness, 
lighting the lights. They were all empty, yet each one 
gave its mute testimony to the character of its use 
and its former occupants. There were opium lay 
outs with pipes, lamps, yen haucks, and other para 
phernalia in some. In others had been cocaine snuf 
fers. There seemed to be everything for drug users 
of every kind. 

At last in a small room in front on the top floor 
we came upon a girl, half insensible from a drug. 
She was vainly trying to make herself presentable 
for the street, ramblingly talking to herself in the 

Again my hopes rose that we had found either the 
mysterious Marie Margot or Betty Blackwell. A 


second glance caused us all to pause in surprise and 

It was the Titian-haired girl from the Mont- 
martre office. 

Miss Kendall, recovering from the effects of the 
drugs which she had been compelled to take in her 
heroic attempt to get at the dope joint, was en 
deavouring to quiet the girl from the Montmartre, 
who, now vaguely recollecting us, seemed to realize 
that something had gone wrong and was trembling 
and crying pitifully. 

" What's the matter with her? " I asked. 

" Chloral," replied Miss Kendall in a low voice 
aside. " I suppose she has had a wild night which 
she has followed by chloral to quiet her nerves, with 
little effect. Didn't you ever see them? They will 
go into a drug store in this part of the city where 
such things are sold, weak, shaky, nervous wrecks. 
The clerk will sell them the stuff and they will retire 
for a moment into the telephone booth. Sometimes 
they will come out looking as though they had never 
felt a moment's effect from their wild debauches. 
But there are other times when they are too weak 
ened to get over it so quickly. That is her case, poor 

The soothing hand which she laid on the girl's 
throbbing head was quite in contrast with the man 
ner in which I recalled her to have spoken of the 
girl when first we saw her at the Montmartre. She 
must have seen the look of surprise on my face. 

" I can't condemn these girls too strongly when 


I see them themselves," she remarked. " It would 
be so easy for them to stop and lead a decent life, 
if they only would forget the white lights and the 
gay life that allures them. It is when they are so 
down and out that I long to give them a hand to 
help them up again and show them how foolish it 
is to make slaves of themselves." 

" Call a cab, Walter," said Kennedy, who had 
been observing the girl closely. " There is nothing 
more that we can expect to accomplish here. Every 
body has escaped by this time. But we must get 
this poor girl in a private hospital or sanitarium 
where she can recover." 

Clare had disappeared. A moment later she re 
turned from the room she had had downstairs with 
her hat on. 

" I'm going with her," she announced simply. 

"What you, Miss Kendall?" 

" Yes. If a girl ever needed a friend, it is this 
girl now. There is nothing I can do for the moment. 
I will take care of her in my apartment until she is 
herself again." 

The girl seemed to half understand, and to be 
grateful to Clare. Kennedy watched her hovering 
over the drug victim without attempting to express 
the admiration which he felt. 

Just as the cab was announced, he drew Miss 
Kendall aside. " You're a trump," he said frankly. 
" Most people would pass by on the other side from 
such as she is." 

They talked for a moment as to the best place to 


go, then decided on a quiet little place uptown where 
convalescents were taken in. 

" I think you can still be working on the case, 
if you care to do so," suggested Craig as Miss Ken 
dall and her charge were leaving. 

"How?" she asked. 

" When you get her to this sanitarium, try to be 
with her as much as you can. I think if anyone can 
get anything out of her, you can. Remember it is 
more than this girl's rescue that is at stake. If she 
can be got to talk she may prove an important link 
toward piecing together the solution of the mystery 
of Betty Blackwell. She must know many of the 
inside secrets of the Montmartre," he added signifi 

They had gone, and Craig and I had started to 
go also when we came across a negro caretaker who 
seemed to have stuck by the place during all the 

"Do you know that girl who just went out?" 
asked Craig. 

" No, sah," she replied glibly. 

" Look here," demanded Craig, facing her. 
" You know better than that. She has been here 
before, and you know it. I've a good mind to have 
you held for being in charge of this place. If I do, 
all the Marie Margots and Ike the Droppers can't 
get you out again." 

The negress seemed to understand that this was 
no ordinary raid. 

"Who is she?" demanded Craig. 


" I dunno, sah. She come from next door." 

" I know she did. She's the girl in the office of 
the Montmartre. Now, you know her. What is 
her name? " 

The negress seemed to consider a moment, then 
quickly answered, " Dey always calls her Miss Sybil 
here, sah, Sybil Seymour, sah." 

' Thank you. I knew you had some name for 
her. Come, Walter. This is over for the present. 
A raid without arrests, too ! It will be all over 
town in half an hour. If we are going to do any 
thing it must be done quickly." 

We called on Carton and lost no time in having 
the men he could spare placed in watching the rail 
roads and steamship lines to prevent if we could 
any of the gang from getting out of the city that 
way. It was a night of hard work with no results. 
I began to wonder whether they might not have es 
caped finally after all. There seemed to be no 
trace. Harris had disappeared, there was no clue 
to Marie Margot, no trace of the new blonde 
woman, not a syllable yet about Betty Blackwell. 


"TT seems as if the forces of Dorgan are de- 
A moralized," I remarked the afternoon after 
the raid on Margot's. 

" We have them on the run that's true," agreed 
Kennedy, " but there's plenty of fight in them, yet. 
We're not through, by any means." 

Still, the lightning swiftness of Carton's attack 
had taken their breath away, temporarily, at least. 
Already he had started proceedings to disbar Kahn, 
as well as to prosecute him in the courts. Accord 
ing to the reports that came to us Murtha himself 
seemed dazed at the blow that had fallen. Some 
of our informants asserted that he was drinking 
heavily; others denied it. Whatever it was, how 
ever, Murtha was changed. 

As for Dorgan, he was never much in the lime 
light anyhow and was less so now than ever. He 
preferred to work through others, while he himself 
kept in the background. He had never held any 
but a minor office, and that in the beginning of his 
career. Interviews and photographs he eschewed 
as if forbidden by his political religion. Since the 
discovery of the detectaphone in his suite at Gas- 
tron's he had had his rooms thoroughly overhauled, 



lest by any chance there might be another of the 
magic little instruments concealed in the very walls, 
and having satisfied himself that there was not, he 
instituted a watch of private detectives to prevent 
a repetition of the unfortunate incident. 

Whoever it was who had obtained the Black Book 
was keeping very quiet about it, and I imagined 
that it was being held up as a sort of sword of 
Damocles, dangling over his head, until such time 
as its possessor chose to strike the final blow. Of 
course, we did not and could not know what was 
going on behind the scenes with the Silent Boss, what 
drama was being enacted between Dorgan and the 
Wall Street group, headed by Langhorne. Lang- 
horne himself was inscrutable. I had heard that 
Dorgan had once in an unguarded moment expressed 
a derogatory opinion of the social leanings of Lang 
horne. But that was in the days before Dorgan 
had acquired a country place on Long Island and 
a taste for golf and expensive motors. Now, in his 
way, Dorgan was quite as fastidious as any of those 
he had once affected to despise. It amused Lang 
horne. But it had not furthered his ambitions of 
being taken into the inner circle of Dorgan's confi 
dence. Hence, I inferred, this bitter internecine 
strife within the organization itself. 

Whatever was brewing inside the organization, I 
felt that we should soon know, for this was the day 
on which Justice Pomeroy had announced he would 
sentence Dopey Jack. 

It was a very different sort of crowd that over- 


flowed the courtroom that morning from that which 
had so boldly flocked to the trial as if it were to 
make a Roman holiday of justice. 

The very tone was different. There was a tense 
look on many a face, as if the owner were asking 
himself the question, " What are we coming to? If 
this can happen to Dopey Jack, what might not hap 
pen to me? " 

Even the lawyers were changed. Kahn, as a re 
sult of the proceedings that Carton had instituted, 
had yielded the case to another, perhaps no better 
than himself, but wiser, after the fact. Instead of 
demanding anything, as a sort of prescriptive right, 
the new attorney actually adopted the unheard of 
measure of appealing to the clemency of the court. 
The shades of all the previous bosses and gangsters 
must have turned in disgust at the unwonted sight. 
But certain it was that no one could see the relaxa 
tion of a muscle on the face of Justice Pomeroy as 
the lawyer proceeded with his specious plea. He 
heard Carton, also, in the same impassive manner, 
as in a few brief and pointed sentences he ripped 
apart the sophistries of his opponent. 

The spectators fairly held their breath as the 
prisoner now stood before the tribune of justice. 

" Jack Rubano," he began impressively, " you 
have been convicted by twelve of your peers so the 
law looks on them, although the fact is that any 
honest man is immeasurably your superior. Even 
before that, Rubano, the District Attorney having 
looked into all the facts surrounding this charge had 


come to the conclusion that the evidence was suffi 
ciently strong to convict you. You were convicted 
in his mind. In my mind, of course, there could be 
no prejudgment. But now that a jury has found 
you guilty, I may say that you have a record that 
is more than enough to disgrace a man twice your 
age. True, you have never been punished. But 
this is not the time or place for me to criticise my 
colleagues on the bench for letting you off. Others 
of your associates have served terms in prison for 
things no whit worse than you have done repeatedly. 
I shall be glad to meet some of them at this bar in 
the near future." 

The justice paused, then extended a long, lean 
accusatory finger out from the rostrum at the gang 
ster. " Rubano," he concluded, " your crime is 
particularly heinous debauching the very founda 
tions of the state the elections. I sentence you to 
not less than three nor more than five years in 
State's prison, at hard labour." 

There was an audible gasp in the big courtroom, 
as the judge snapped shut his square jaw, bull-dog 
fashion. It was as though he had snapped the 
backbone of the System. 

The prisoner was hurried from the room before 
there was a chance for a demonstration. It was 
unnecessary, however. It seemed as if all the jaunty 
bravado of the underworld was gone out of it. 
Slowly the crowd filed out, whispering. 

Dopey Jack, Murtha's right-hand man, had been 
sentenced to State's prison! 


Outside the courtroom Carton received an ova 
tion. As quickly as he could, he escaped from the 
newspapermen, and Kennedy was the first to grasp 
his hand. 

But the most pleasing congratulation came from 
Miss Ashton, who had dropped in with two or three 
friends from the Reform League. 

" I'm so glad, Mr. Carton for your sake," she 
added very prettily, with just a trace of height 
ened colour in her cheeks and eyes that showed her 
sincere pleasure at the outcome of the case. " And 
then, too," she went on, " it may have some bear 
ing on the case of that girl who- has disappeared. 
So far, no one seems to have been able to find a 
trace of her. She just seems to have dropped out 
as if she had been spirited away." 

" We must find her," returned Carton, thanking 
her for her good wishes in a manner which he had 
done to none of the rest of us, and in fact forgetful 
now that any of us were about. " I shall start right 
in on Dopey Jack to see if I can get anything out of 
him, although I don't think he is one that will prove 
a squealer in any way. I hope we can have some 
thing to report soon." 

Others were pressing around him and Miss Ash- 
ton moved away, although I thought his handshakes 
were perhaps a little less cordial after she had gone. 

I turned once to survey the crowd and down the 
gallery, near a pillar I saw Langhorne, his eyes 
turned fixedly in our direction, and a deep scowl on 
his face. Evidently he had no relish for the pro- 


ceedings, at least that part in which Carton had just 
figured, whatever his personal feelings may have 
been toward the culprit. A moment later he saw 
me looking at him, turned abruptly and walked 
toward the stone staircase that led down to the main 
floor. But I could not get that scowl out of my 
mind as I watched his tall, erect figure stalking 

Neither Murtha, nor, of course, Dorgan, were 
there, though I knew that they had many emissaries 
present who would report to them every detail of 
what had happened, down perhaps to the congratu 
lations of Miss Ashton. Somehow, I could not get 
out of my head a feeling that she would afford them, 
in some way, a point of attack on Carton and that 
the unscrupulous organization would stop at nothing 
in order to save its own life and ruin his. 

Carton had not only his work at the District At 
torney's office to direct, but some things to clear up 
at the Reform League headquarters, as well as a 
campaign speech to make. 

" I'm afraid I shan't be able to see much of you, 
to-day," he apologized to Kennedy, " but you're 
going to Miss Ashton's suffrage evening and dance, 
aren't you? " 

" I should like to go," temporized Kennedy. 

Carton glanced about to see whether there was 
anyone in earshot. " I think you had better go," 
he added. " She has secured a promise from Lang- 
horne to be there, as well as several of the organi 
zation leaders. It is a thoroughly non-partisan af- 


fair and she can get them all together. You know 
the organization is being educated. When people 
of the prominence of the Ashtons take up suffrage 
and make special requests to have certain persons 
come to a thing like that, they can hardly refuse. In 
fact, no one commits himself to anything by being 
present, whereas, absence might mean hostility, and 
there are lots of the women in the organization that 
believe in suffrage, now. Yes, we'd better go. It 
will be a chance to observe some people we want 
to watch." 

" We'll go," agreed Kennedy. " Can't we all go 

" Surely," replied Carton, gratified, I could see, 
by having succeeded in swelling the crowd that 
would be present and thus adding to the success 
of Miss Ashton's affair. " Drop into the office here, 
and I'll be ready. Good-bye and thanks for your 
aid, both of you." 

We left the Criminal Courts Building with the 
crowd that was slowly dispersing, still talking over 
the unexpected and unprecedented end of the trial. 

As we paused on the broad flight of steps that 
led down to the street on this side, Kennedy jogged 
my elbow, and, following his eyes, I saw a woman, 
apparently alone, just stepping into a town car at 
the curb. 

There was something familiar about her, but her 
face was turned from me and I could not quite place 

" Mrs. Ogleby," Kennedy remarked. " I didn't 


see her in the courtroom. She must have been there, 
though, or perhaps outside in the corridor. Evi 
dently she felt some interest in the outcome of the 

He had caught just a glimpse of her face and 
now that he pronounced her name I recognized her, 
though I should not have otherwise. 

The car drove off with the rattle of the changing 
gears into high speed, before we had a chance to 
determine whether it was otherwise empty or not. 

" Why was she here? " I asked. 

Kennedy shook his head, but did not venture a 
reply to the question that was in his own mind. I 
felt that it must have something to do with her 
fears regarding the Black Book. Had she, too, 
surmised that Murtha had employed his henchman, 
Dopey Jack, to recover the book from Langhorne? 
Had she feared that Dopey Jack might in some 
moment of heat, for revenge, drop some hint of the 
robbery whether it had been really successful or 

It was my turn to call Kennedy's attention to 
something, now, for standing sidewise as I was, I 
could see the angles of the building back of him. 

" Don't turn yet," I cautioned, " but just around 
the corner back of you, Langhorne is standing. Evi 
dently he has been watching Mrs. Ogleby, too." 

Kennedy drew a cigarette from his case, tried to 
light it, let the match go out, and then as if to 
shield himself from the wind, stepped back and 


Langhorne, however, had seen us, and an instant 
later had disappeared. 

Without a word further Kennedy led the way 
around the corner to the subway and we started 
uptown, I knew this time, for the laboratory. 

He made no comment on the case, but I knew he 
had in mind some plan or other for the next move 
and that it would probably involve something at the 
suffrage meeting at Miss Ashton's that evening. 

During the rest of the day, Craig was busy testing 
and re-testing a peculiar piece of apparatus, while 
now and then he would despatch me on various er 
rands which I knew were more as an outlet for my 
excitement than of any practical importance. 

The apparatus, as far as I could make it out, con 
sisted of a simple little oaken box, oblong in shape, 
in the face of which were two square little holes 
with side walls of cedar, converging pyramid-like 
in the interior of the box and ending in what looked 
to be little round black discs. 

I had just returned with a hundred feet or so of 
the best silk-covered flexible wire, when he had 
evidently completed his work. Two of the boxes 
were already wrapped up. I started to show him 
the wire, but after a glance he accepted it as exactly 
what he had wanted and made it into a smaller 
package, which he handed to me. 

" I think we might be journeying down to Car 
ton's office," he added, looking impatiently at his 

It was still early and we did not hurry. 


Carton, however, was waiting for us anxiously. 
" I've called you at the laboratory and the apart 
ment all over," he cried. " Where have you 

" Just on the way down," returned Kennedy. 
' Why, what has happened? " 

'Then you haven't heard it?" asked Carton 
excitedly, without waiting for Craig's answer. 
" Murtha has been committed to a sanitarium." 

Kennedy and I stared at him. 

" Pat Murtha," ejaculated Craig, " in a sani 
tarium? " 

" Exactly. Paresis they say absolutely irre 

Coming as it did as a climax to the quick and 
unexpected succession of events of the past few 
days, it was no wonder that it seemed impossible. 

What did it mean? Was it merely a sham? Or 
was it a result of his excesses? Or had Carton's 
relentless pursuit, the raid of Margot's, and the con 
viction of Dopey Jack, driven the Smiling Boss 
really insane? 


NOTHING else was talked about at the suf 
frage reception at Miss Ashton's that even 
ing, not even suffrage, as much as the strange fate 
that seemed to have befallen Murtha. 

And, as usual with an event like that, stories of 
all sorts, even the wildest improbabilities, were cur 
rent. Some even went so far as to insinuate that 
Dorgan had purposely quickened the pace of life 
for Murtha by the dinners at Gastron's in order to 
get him out of the way, fearing that with his power 
within the organization Murtha might become a 
serious rival to himself. 

Whether there was any truth in the rumour or 
not, it was certain that Dorgan was of the stamp 
that could brook no rivals. In fact, that had been 
at the bottom of the warfare between himself and 
Langhorne. Certain also was it that the dinners 
and conferences at the now famous suite of the 
Silent Boss were reputed to have been often verging 
on, if not actually crossing, the line of the scandal 

Miss Ashton's guests assembled in force, coming 
from all classes of society, all parties in politics, and 
all religions. Her object had been to show that, 



although she personally was working with the Re 
form League, suffrage itself was a broad general 
issue. The two or three hundred guests of the 
evening surely demonstrated it and testified to the 
popularity of Miss Ashton personally, as well. 

She had planned to hold the meeting in the big 
drawing-room of the Ashton mansion, but the audi 
ence overflowed into the library and other rooms. 
As the people assembled, it was interesting to see 
how for the moment at least they threw off the bit 
terness of the political campaign and met each other 
on what might be called neutral ground. Dorgan 
himself had been invited, but, in accordance with 
his custom of never appearing in public if he could 
help it, did not come. Langhorne was present, how 
ever, and I saw him once talking to a group of 
labour union leaders and later to Justice Pomeroy, 
an evidence of how successful the meeting was in 
hiding, if not burying, the hatchet. 

Carton, naturally, was the lion of the evening, 
though he tried hard to keep in the background. I 
was amused to see his efforts. In fleeing from the 
congratulations of some of his own and Miss Ash- 
ton's society friends, he would run into a group of 
newspaper men and women who were lying in wait 
for him. Shaking himself loose from them would 
result in finding himself the centre of an enthusiastic 
crowd of Reform Leaguers. 

Mrs. Ogleby was there, also, and both Kennedy 
and I watched her curiously. I wondered whether 
she might not feel just a little relieved to think that 


Murtha was seemingly out of the way for the pres 
ent. Her knowledge of the Black Book which had 
first given the tip to Carton had always been a mys 
tery to Kennedy and was one of the problems which 
I knew he would like to solve to-night. She was 
keenly observant of Carton, which led us to suppose 
that she had not yet got out of her mind the idea 
that somehow it was he who had been responsible 
for the detectaphone record which so many of those 
present were struggling to obtain. Though Lang- 
horne studiously avoided her, I noticed that each 
kept an eye on the other, and I felt that there was 
something common to both of them. 

It was with an unexpressed air of relief to sev 
eral members of the party that Miss Ashton at last 
rapped for order and after a short, pithy, pointed 
speech of Introduction presented the several speak 
ers of the evening. It was, like the audience, a well- 
balanced programme, which showed the tactfulness 
and political acumen of Miss Ashton. I shall pass 
over the speeches, however, as they had no direct 
bearing on the mystery which Kennedy and I found 
so engrossing. 

The meeting had been cleverly planned so that 
in spite of its accomplishing much for the propa 
ganda work of the " cause," it did not become tire 
some and the speaking was followed by the entrance 
of one of the best little orchestras for dance music 
in the city. 

Instantly, the scene transformed itself from a suf 
frage meeting to a social function that was unique. 


Leaders of the smart set rubbed elbows, and seemed 
to enjoy it, with working girls and agitators. Con 
servative and radical, millionaire and muckraker 
succumbed to the spell of the Ashton hospitality 
and the lure of the new dances. It was a novel ex 
perience for all, a levelling-up of society, as con 
trasted to some of the levelling-down that we had 
recently seen. 

Kennedy and I, having no mood as things stood 
for the festivities, drew aside and watched the 
kaleidoscopic whirl of the dancers. Across from us 
was a wide doorway that opened into a spacious 
conservatory, a nook of tropical and temperate 
beauty. Several couples had wandered in there to 
rest and, as the orchestra struck up something new 
that seemed to have the " punch " to its timeful 
measures, they gradually rejoined the dancers. 

It had evidently suggested an idea to Kennedy, 
for a moment later he led me toward the coat room 
and uncovered the package which he had brought 
consisting of the two oaken boxes I had seen him 
adjusting in the laboratory. 

We managed to reach the conservatory and found 
in a corner a veritable bower with a wide rustic seat 
under some palms. Quickly Kennedy deposited in 
the shadow of one of them an oaken box, sticking 
into it the plugs on the ends of the wires that I had 
brought. It was an easy matter here in the dim half 
light to conceal the wire behind the plants and a 
moment later he tossed the end through a swinging 
window in the glass and closed the window. 


Casually we edged our way out among the 
dancers and around to the room into which he had 
thrown the wire. It was a breakfast room, I think, 
but at any rate we could not remain there for it 
was quite easy to see into it through the crystal 
walls of the conservatory. There was, however, 
what seemed to be a little pantry at the other end, 
and to this Kennedy deftly led the wires and then 
plugged them in on the other oaken box. 

He turned a lever. Instantly from the wizard- 
like little box issued forth the strains of the dance 
music of the orchestra and the rhythmic shuffle of 
feet. Now and then a merry laugh or a snatch of 
gay conversation floated in to us. Though we were 
effectually cut off from both sight and hearing in 
the pantry, it was as though we had been sitting on 
the rustic bench in the conservatory. 

" What is it? " I asked in amazement, gazing at 
the wonderful little instrument before us. 

" A vocaphone," he explained, moving the switch 
and cutting off the sound instantly, " an improved 
detectaphone something that can be used both in 
practical business, professional, and home affairs as 
a loud speaking telephone, and, as I expect to use it 
here, for special cases of detective work. You re 
member the detectaphone instruments which we have 

Indeed I did. It had helped us out of several very 
tight situations and seemed now to have been used 
to get the organization into a very tight political 


"Well, the vocaphone," went on Kennedy, "does 
even more than the detect aphone. You see, it talks 
right out. Those little apertures in the face act like 
megaphone horns increasing the volume of sound." 
He indicated the switch with his finger and then 
another point to which it could be moved. "Be 
sides," he went on enthusiastically, "this machine 
talks both ways. I have only to turn the switch 
to that point and a voice will speak out in the con 
servatory just as if we were there instead of talking 

He turned the switch so that it carried the sounds 
only in our direction. The last strains of the dance 
music were being followed by the hearty applause 
of the dancers. 

As the encore struck up again, a voice, almost as 
if it were in the little room alongside us, said, "Why, 
hello, Mary, why aren't you dancing?" 

There was an unmistakable air of familiarity 
about it and about the reply, "Why aren't you, 

"Because I've been looking for a chance to have 
a quiet word with you," the man rejoined. 

"Langhorne and Mrs. Ogleby," cried Craig ex 

"Sh!" I cautioned, "they might hear us." 

He laughed. "Not unless I turn the switch fur 

"I saw you down at the Criminal Courts Build 
ing this morning," went on the man, "but you didn't 
see me. What did you think of Carton ?" 


I fancied there was a trace of sarcasm or jeal 
ousy in his tone. At any rate, woman-like, she did 
not answer that question, but went on to the one 
which it implied. 

" I didn't go to see Carton. He is nothing to me, 
has not been for months. I was only amusing myself 
when I knew him leading him on, playing with 
him, then." She paused, then turned the attack 
on him. "What did you think of Miss Ashton? 
You thought I didn't see you, but you hardly took 
your eyes off her while I was in the hallway waiting 
to hear the verdict." 

It was Langhorne's turn to defend himself. " It 
wasn't so much Margaret Ashton as that fellow 
Carton I was watching," he answered hastily. 

" Then you you haven't forgotten poor little 
me?" she inquired with a sincere plaintiveness in 
her voice. 

" Mary," he said, lowering his voice, " I have 
tried to forget you tried, because I had no right 
to remember you in the old way not while you and 
Martin remained together. Margaret and I had 
always been friends but I think Carton and this 
sort of thing," he waved his hand I imagined at 
the suffrage dancers " have brought us to the part 
ing of the ways. Perhaps it is better. I'm not so 
sure that it isn't best." 

" And yet," she said slowly, " you are piqued 
piqued that another should have won where you 
failed even if the prize isn't just what you might 


Langhorne assented by silence. " Hartley," she 
went on at length, " you said a moment ago you had 
tried to forget me " 

" But can't," he cut in with almost passionate 
fierceness. " That was what hurt me when I er 
heard that you had gone with Murtha to that dinner 
of Dorgan's. I couldn't help trying to warn you 
of it. I know Martin neglects you. But I was mad 
mad clean through when I saw you playing with 
Carton a few months ago. I don't know anything 
about it don't want to. Maybe he was innocent 
and you were tempting him. I don't care. It an 
gered me angered me worse than ever when I saw 
later that he was winning with Margaret Ashton. 
Everywhere, he seemed to be crossing my trail, to 
be my nemesis. I I wish I was Dorgan I wish I 
could fight." 

Langhorne checked himself before he said too 
much. As it was I saw that it had been he who 
had told Mrs. Ogleby that the Black Book existed. 
He had not told her that he had made it, if in fact 
he had, and she had let the thing out, never thinking 
Langhorne had been the eavesdropper, but suppos 
ing it must be Carton. 

; ' Why why did you go to that dinner with Mur 
tha? " he asked finally, with a trace of reproach in 
his tone. 

; 'Why? Why not?" she answered defiantly. 
"What do I care about Martin? Why should I 
not have my my freedom, too? I went because it 
was wild, unconventional, perhaps wrong. I felt 


that way. If if I had felt that you cared per 
haps I could have been more discreet." 

" I do care," he blurted out. " I I only wish I 
had known you as well as I do now before you 
married that's all." 

" Is there no way to correct the mistake? " she 
asked softly. " Must marriage end all all happi 

Langhorne said nothing, but I could almost hear 
his breathing over the vocaphone, which picked up 
and magnified even whispers. 

" Mary," he said in a deep, passionate voice, " I 
I will defend you from this Murtha thing if it 
ever gets out. I know it is always on your mind 
that you couldn't keep away from that trial for fear 
that Carton, or Murtha, or somebody might say 
something by chance or drop some hint about it. 
Trust me." 

" Then we can be friends? " 

" Lovers ! " he cried fiercely. 

There was a half-smothered exclamation over the 
faithful little vocaphone, a little flurried rustle of 
silk and a long, passionate sigh. 

" Hartley," she whispered. 

" What is it, Mary? " he asked tensely. 

" We must be careful. Carton must be defeated. 
He must not have the power to use that record." 

" No," ground out Langhorne. " Wait he 
shall not. By the way, aren't those orchids gor 
geous? " 

The encore had ceased and over the vocaphone 


we could hear gaily chatting couples wandering into 
the conservatory. The two conspirators rose and 
parted silently, without exciting suspicion. 

For several minutes we listened to snatches of the 
usual vapid chatter that dancing seems to induce. 
Then the orchestra blared forth with another of the 
seductive popular pieces. 

Kennedy and I looked at each other, amazed. 
From the underworld up to the smart set, the trail 
of graft was the same, debauching and blunting all 
that it touched. Here we saw the making of a full- 
fledged scandal in one of the highest circles. 

We had scarcely recovered from our surprise at 
the startling disclosures of the vocaphone, when we 
heard two voices again above the music, two men this 

'What you here?" inquired a voice which we 
recognized immediately as that of Langhorne. 

' Yes," replied the other voice, evidently of a 
young man. " I came in with the swells to keep my 
eye peeled on what was going on." 

The voice itself was unfamiliar, yet it had a tough 
accent which denoted infallibly the section of the 
city where it was acquired. It was one of the gang 

"What's up, Ike?" demanded Langhorne sus 

Craig looked at me significantly. It was Ike the 
Dropper ! 

The other lowered his voice. " I don't mind 
telling you, Mr. Langhorne. You're in the organi- 


zation and we ain't got no grudge against you. It's 

" Carton?" repeated Langhorne, and one could 
feel the expectant catch in his breath, as he added 
quickly: "You mean you fellows are going to try 
to get him right? " 

" Bet your life," swaggered Ike, believing him 
self safe. 


The gangster hesitated, then reassured by Lang 
horne, said : " He's ordered a taxicab. We got it 
for him a driver who is a right guy and'll drive 
him down where there's a bunch of the fellows. 
They ain't goner do nothing serious but well, he 
won't campaign much from a hospital cot," he added 
sagely. " Say here he comes now with that girl. 
I better beat it." 

Langhorne also managed to get away apparently, 
or else Carton and Miss Ashton were too engrossed 
in one another to notice him, for we heard no word 
of greeting. 

A moment later Carton's and Miss Ashton's 
voices were audible. 

" Must you go? " she was saying. 

" I'm afraid so," he apologized. " I've a speech 
to prepare for to-morrow and I've had several hard 
days. It's been a splendid evening, Miss Ashton 
splendid. I've enjoyed it ever so much and I think 
it has accomplished more than a hundred meetings 
besides the publicity it will get for the cause. 
Shall I see you to-morrow at headquarters?" 


" I shall make it a point to drop in," she an 
swered in a tone as unmistakable. 

" Mr. Carton your cab is waiting, sir," an 
nounced a servant with an apology for intruding. 
" At the side entrance, sir, so that you can get away 
quietly, sir." 

Carton thanked him. 

I looked at Kennedy anxiously. If Carton slipped 
away in this fashion before we could warn him, 
what might not happen? We could hardly expect 
to get around and through the press of the dancers 
in time. 

" I hate to go, Miss Ashton," he was adding. 
" I'd stay if I saw any prospect of the others 
going. But you see this is the first time to-night 
that I've had a word with you alone." 

It was not only an emergency, but there were 
limits to Kennedy's eavesdropping propensities, and 
spying on Carton's love affairs was quite another 
thing from Langhorne's. 

Quickly Craig turned the lever all the way over. 

" Carton Miss Ashton this is Kennedy," he 
called. " Back of the big palm you'll find a voca- 
phone. Don't take that cab ! They are going to 
stick you up. Wait I'll explain all in a moment! " 


IT was a startled couple that we found when we 
reached the conservatory. As we made our hasty 
explanation, Carton overwhelmed us with thanks 
for the prompt and effective manner in which Ken 
nedy had saved him from the machinations of the 
defeated gangsters. 

Miss Ashton, who would have kept her nerves 
under control throughout any emergency, actually 
turned pale as she learned of the danger that had 
been so narrowly averted. I am sure that her feel 
ings, which she made no effort to conceal, must have 
been such as to reassure Carton if he had still any 
doubt on that score. 

The delay in his coming out, however, had been 
just enough to arouse suspicion, and by the time that 
we reached the side entrance to the house both Ike 
and the night-hawk taxicab which had evidently been 
drafted into service had disappeared, leaving no clue. 

The result of the discovery over the vocaphone 
was that none of us left Miss Ashton's until much 
later than we had expected. 

Langhorne, apparently, had gone shortly after 
he left the conservatory the last time, and Mrs. 
Ogleby had preceded him. When at last we man- 



aged to convince Miss Ashton that it was perfectly 
safe for Carton to go, nothing would suffice except 
that we should accompany him as a sort of body 
guard to his home. We did so, without en 
countering any adventure more thrilling than seeing 
an argument between a policeman and a late reveller. 

" I can't thank you fellows too much," compli 
mented Carton as we left him. " I was hunting 
around for you, but I thought you had found a suf 
frage meeting too slow and had gone." 

" On the contrary," returned Kennedy, equivo 
cally, " we found it far from slow." 

Carton did not appreciate the tenor of the re 
mark and Craig was not disposed to enlighten him. 

" What do you suppose Mrs. Ogleby meant in 
her references to Carton?" mused Kennedy when 
we reached our own apartment. 

" I can't say," I replied, " unless before he came 
to really know Miss Ashton, they were intimate." 

Kennedy shook his head. " Why will men in a 
public capacity get mixed up with women of the ad 
venturess type like that, even innocently? " he rumi 
nated. " Mark my words, she or someone else will 
make trouble for him before we get through." 

It was a thought that had lately been in my own 
mind, for we had had several hints of that nature. 

Kennedy said no more, but he had started my 
mind on a train of speculative thought. I could not 
imagine that a woman of Mrs. Ogleby's type could 
ever have really appealed to Carton, but that did 
not preclude the possibility that some unscrupulous 


person might make use of the intimacy for base pur 
poses. Then, too, there was the threat that I had 
heard agreed on by both Langhorne and herself 
over the vocaphone. 

What would be the next step of the organization 
now in its sworn warfare on Carton, I could not 
imagine. But we did not have long to wait. Early 
the following forenoon an urgent message came to 
Kennedy from Carton to meet him at his office. 

" Kennedy," he said, " I don't know how to thank 
you for the many times you have pulled me through, 
and I'm almost ashamed to keep on calling on you." 

" It's a big fight," hastened Craig. " You have 
opponents who know the game in its every crooked 
turn. If I can be only a small cog on a wheel that 
crushes them, I shall be only too glad. Your face 
tells me that something particularly unpleasant has 

"It has, "'admitted Carton, smoothing out some 
of the wrinkles at the mere sight of Craig. 

He paused a moment, as if he were himself in 
doubt as to just what the trouble was. 

" Someone has been impersonating me over the 
telephone," he began. " All day long there have 
been reports coming into my office asking me whether 
it was true that I had agreed to accept the offer of 
Dorgan that Murtha made, you know, that is, 
practically to let up on the organization if they 
would let up on me." 

" Yes," prompted Kennedy, " but, impersonation 
what do you mean by that? " 


" Why, early to-day someone called me up, said 
he was Dorgan, and asked if I would have any ob 
jection to meeting him. I said I would meet him 
only it would do no good. Then, apparently, the 
same person called up Dorgan and said he was my 
self, asking if he had any objection to meeting me. 
Dorgan said he'd see. Whoever it was, he almost 
succeeded in bringing about the fool thing would 
have done it, if I hadn't got wise to the fact that 
there was something funny about it. I called up 
Dorgan. He said he'd meet me, as long as I had 
approached him first. I said I hadn't. We swore 
a little and called the fake meeting off. But it was 
too late. It got into the papers. Now, you'd think 
it wouldn't make any difference to either of us. It 
doesn't to him. People will think he tried to slip 
one over on me. But it does make a difference to 
me. People will think I'm trying to sell out." 

Carton showed plainly his vexation at the affair. 

" The old scheme ! " exclaimed Kennedy. 
" That's the plan that has been used by a man down 
in Wall Street that they call, * the Wolf.' He is a 
star impersonator will call up two sworn enemies 
and put over something on them that double-crosses 

" Wall Street," mused Carton. " That reminds 
me of another batch of rumours that have been 
flying around. They were that I had made a deal 
with Langhorne by which I agreed to support him 
in his fight to get something in the contracts of the 
new city planning scheme in return for his support 


of the part of the organization he could swing to 
me in the election, another lie." 

" It might have been Langhorne himself, playing 
the wolf," I suggested. 

Kennedy had reached for the telephone book. 
" Also, it might have been Kahn," he added. " I 
see he has an office in Wall Street, too. He has 
been the legal beneficiary of several shady transac 
tions down there." 

" Oh," put in Carton, " it might have been any of 
them they're all capable of it from Dorgan down. 
If Murtha was only out, I'd be inclined to suspect 

He tossed over a typewritten sheet of paper. 
" That's the statement I gave out to the press," he 

It read : " My attention has been called to the 
alleged activities of some person or persons who 
through telephone calls and underground methods 
are seeking to undermine confidence in my integrity. 
A more despicable method of attempting to arouse 
distrust I cannot imagine. It is criminal and if any 
one can assist me in placing the responsibility where 
it belongs I shall be glad to prosecute to the limit." 

"That's all right," assented Kennedy, "but I 
don't think it will have any effect. You see, this 
sort of thing is too easy for anyone to be scared off 
from. All he has to do is to go to a pay station and 
call up there. You couldn't very well trace that." 

He stopped abruptly and his face puckered with 


" There ought to be some way, though," I mur 
mured, without knowing just what the way might 
be, " to tell whether it is Dorgan and the organiza 
tion crowd, or Langhorne and his pool, or Kahn and 
the other shysters." 

There is a way," cried Kennedy at last. " You 
fellows wait here while I make a flying trip up to 
the laboratory. If anyone calls us, just put him 
off tell him to call up later." 

Carton continued to direct the work of his office, 
of which there had been no interruptions even dur 
ing the stress of the campaign. Now and then the 
telephone rang and each time Carton would motion 
to me, and say, " You take it, Jameson. If it seems 
perfectly regular then pass it over to me." 

Several routine calls came in, this way, followed 
by one from Miss Ashton, which Carton prolonged 
much beyond the mere time needed to discuss a phase 
of the Reform League campaign. 

He had scarcely hung up the receiver, when the 
bell tinkled insistently, as though central had had 
an urgent call which the last conversation had held 

I took down the receiver, and almost before I 
could answer the inquiry, a voice began, " This is 
the editor of the Wall Street Record, Mr. Carton. 
Have you heard anything of the rumours about 
Hartley Langhorne and his pool being insolvent? 
The Street has been flooded with stories " 

" One moment," I managed to interrupt. " This 
is not Mr. Carton, although this is his office. No 


he's out. Yes, he'll certainly be back in half an 
hour. Ring up then." 

I repeated the scrap of gossip that had filtered 
through to me, which Carton received in quite as 
much perplexity as I had. 

" Seems as if everybody was getting knocked," he 

" That may be a blind, though," I suggested. 

He nodded. I think we both realized how help 
less we were when Kennedy was away. In fact we 
made even our guesses with a sort of lack of confi 

It was therefore with a sense of relief that we wel 
comed him a few minutes later as he hurried into 
the office, almost breathless from his trip uptown 
and back. 

"Has anyone called up?" he inquired uncere 
moniously, unwrapping a small parcel which he car 

I told him as briefly as I could what had happened. 
He nodded, without making any audible comment, 
but in a manner that seemed to show no surprise. 

" I want to get this thing installed before anyone 
else calls," he explained, setting to work imme 

"What is it?" I asked, regarding the affair, 
which included something that looked like a phono 
graph cylinder. 

" An invention that has just been perfected," he 
replied without delaying his preparations, " by which 
it is possible for messages to be sent over the tele- 


phone and automatically registered, even in the ab 
sence of anyone at the receiving end. Up to the 
present it has been practicable to take phonograph 
records only by the direct action of the human voice 
upon the diaphragm of the instrument. Not long 
ago there was submitted to the French Academy of 
Sciences an apparatus by which the receiver of the 
telephone can be put into communication with a 
phonograph and a perfect record obtained of the 
voice of the speaker at the other end of the wire, 
his message being reproduced at will by merely 
pressing a button." 

"Wouldn't the telegraphone do?" I asked, re 
membering our use of that instrument in other cases. 

" It would record," he replied, " but I want a 
phonograph record. Nothing else will do in this 
case. You'll see why, before I get through. Besides, 
this apparatus isn't complicated. Between the 
diaphragm of the telephone receiver and that of the 
phonographic microphone is fitted an air chamber 
of adjustable size, open to the outer atmosphere by 
a small hole to prevent compression. I think," he 
added with a smile, " it will afford a pretty good 
means of collecting souvenirs of friends by preserv 
ing the sound of their voices through the telephone." 

For several minutes we waited. 

" I don't think I ever heard of such effrontery, 
such open, bare-faced chicanery," fumed Carton im 

" We'll catch the fellow yet," replied Kennedy 
confidently. " And I think we'll find him a bad lot." 


AT last the telephone rang and Carton answered 
j[\. it eagerly. As he did so, he quickly motioned 
to us to go to the outside office where we, too, could 
listen on extensions. 

"Yes, this is Mr. Carton," we heard him say. 

"This is the editor of the Wall Street Record" 
came back the reply in a tone that showed no hesita 
tion or compunction if it was lying. "I suppose you 
have heard the rumours that are current downtown 
that Hartley Langhorne and the people associated 
with him have gone broke in the pool they formed 
to get control of the public utilities that would put 
them in a position to capture the city betterment 
contracts ?" 

"No I hadn't heard it," answered Carton, with 
difficulty restraining himself from quizzing the in 
formant about himself. Kennedy was motioning to 
him that that was enough. "I'm sure I can't express 
any opinion at all for publication on the subject," he 
concluded brusquely, jamming down the receiver on 
the hook before his interlocutor had a chance to ask 
another question. 

The bell continued to ring, but Craig seized the 
receiver off its hook again and called back, "Mr. 



Carton has gone for the day," hanging it up again 
with a bang. 

"Call up the Record now," advised Craig, dis 
connecting the recording instrument he had brought. 
"See what the editor has to say." 

"This is the District Attorney's office," said Car 
ton a moment later when he got the number. "You 
just called me." 

"I called you?" asked the editor, non-plussed. 

"About a rumour current in Wall Street." 

"Rumour? No, sir. It must be some mistake." 

"I guess so. Sorry to have troubled you. Good 

Carton looked from one to the other of us. "You 
see," he said in disgust, "there it is again. That's 
the sort of thing that has been going on all day. 
How do I know what that fellow is doing now 
perhaps using my name?" 

I had no answer to his implied query as to who 
was the "wolf" and what he might be up to. As 
for Kennedy, while he showed plainly that he had 
his suspicions which he expected to confirm abso 
lutely, he did not care to say anything about them 

"Two can play at 'wolf,' " he said quietly, calling 
up the headquarters of Dorgan's organization. 

I wondered what he would say, but was disap 
pointed to find that it was a merely trivial conver 
sation about some inconsequential thing, as though 
Kennedy had merely wished to get in touch with the 
"Silent Boss." Next he called up the sanitarium to 


which Murtha had been committed, and after posing 
as Murtha's personal physician managed to have the 
rules relaxed to the extent of exchanging a few sen 
tences with him. 

"How did he seem irrational?" asked Carton 
with interest, for I don't think the District Attorney 
had complete confidence in the commonly announced 
cause of Murtha's enforced retirement. 

Kennedy shook his head doubtfully. " Sounded 
pretty far gone," was all he said, turning over the 
pages of the telephone book as he looked for another 

This time it was Kahn whom he called up, and he 
had some difficulty locating him, for Kahn had two 
offices and was busily engaged in preparing a de 
fence to the charges preferred against him for the 
jury fixing episode. 

Among others whom he called up was Langhorne, 
and the conversation with him was as perfunctory as 
possible, consisting merely in repeating his name, fol 
lowed by an apology from Kennedy for " calling the 
wrong number." 

In each case, Craig was careful to have his little 
recording instrument working, taking down every 
word that was uttered and when he had finished he 
detached it, looking at the cylinder with unconcealed 

" I'm going up to the laboratory again," he an 
nounced, as Carton looked at him inquiringly. " The 
investigation that I have in mind will take time, but 
I shall hurry it along as fast as I possibly can. I 


don't want any question about the accuracy of my 

We left Carton, who promised to meet us late 
in the afternoon at the laboratory, and started up 
town. Instead, however, of going up directly, Craig 
telephoned first to Clare Kendall to shadow Mrs. 

The rest of the day he spent in making micro- 
photographs of the phonograph cylinder and study 
ing them very attentively under his high-powered 

Toward the close of the afternoon the first report 
of Miss Kendall, who had been " trailing " Mrs. 
Ogleby, came in. We were not surprised to learn 
that she had met Langhorne in the Futurist Tea 
Room in the middle of the afternoon and that they 
had talked long and earnestly. What did surprise 
us, though, was her suspicion that she had crossed 
the trail of someone else who was shadowing Mrs. 

Kennedy made no comment, though I could see 
that he was vitally interested. What was the signifi 
cance of the added mystery? Someone else had an 
interest in watching her movements. At once I 
thought of Dorgan. Could he have known of the 
intimacy of his guest at the Gastron dinner with 
Langhorne, rather than with Murtha, with whom she 
had gone? Suddenly another explanation occurred 
to me. What was more likely than that Martin 
Ogleby should have heard of his wife's escapade? 
He would certainly learn now to his surprise of her 


meeting with Langhorne. What would happen 

Kennedy had about finished with his microphoto- 
graphic work and was checking it over to satisfy him 
self of the results, when Carton, as he had promised, 
dropped in on us. 

" What are you doing now? " he asked curiously, 
looking at the prints and paraphernalia scattered 
about. " By the way, I've been inquiring into the 
commitment of Murtha to that sanitarium for the 
insane. On the surface it all seems perfectly regu 
lar. It appears that, unknown even to many of his 
most intimate friends, he has been suffering from a 
complication of diseases, the result of his high life, 
and they have at last affected his brain, as they were 
bound to do in time. Still, I don't like his ' next 
friends ' in the case. One is his personal physician 
I don't know much about him. But Dorgan is 
one of the others." 

" We'll have to look into it," agreed Kennedy. 
" Meanwhile, would you like to know who your 
' wolf ' is that has been spreading rumours about 
broadcast? " 

" I would indeed," exclaimed Carton eagerly. 
" You were right about the statement I issued. It 
had no more effect than so many unspoken words. 
The fellow has kept right on. He even had the 
nerve to call up Miss Ashton in my name and try 
to find out whether she had any trace of the missing 
Betty Blackwell. How do you suppose they found 
out that she was interested? " 


" Not a very difficult thing," replied Kennedy. 
" Miss Ashton must have told several organizations, 
and the grafters always watch such societies pretty 
closely. What did she say? " 

" Nothing," answered Carton. " I had thought 
that they might try something of the sort and for 
tunately I warned her to disregard any telephone 
messages unless they came certainly from me. We 
agreed on a little secret formula, a sort of password, 
to be used, and I flatter myself that the ' wolf ' 
won't be able to accomplish much in that direction. 
You say you have discovered a clue? How did you 
get it?" 

Kennedy picked up one of the microphotographs 
which showed an enlargement of the marks on the 
phonograph cylinder. He showed it to us and we 
gazed curiously at the enigmatic markings, greatly 
magnified. To me, it looked like a collection of 
series of lines. By close scrutiny I was able to make 
out that the lines were wavy and more or less con 
tinuous, being made up of collections of finer lines, 
lines within lines, as it were. 

An analysis of their composition showed that the 
centre of larger lines was composed of three con 
tinuous series of markings which looked, under the 
lens, for all the world like the impressions of an end 
less straight series of molar teeth. Flanking these 
three tooth-like impressions were other lines vary 
ing in width and in number I should say, about 
four, both above and below the tooth-like impres 
sions. When highly magnified one could distinguish 


roughly parallel parts of what at even a low mag 
nification looked like a single line. 

" I have been studying voice analysis lately," ex 
plained Kennedy, " particularly with reference to 
the singing voice. Mr. Edison has made thousands 
and thousands of studies of voices to determine which 
are scientifically perfect for singing. That side of it 
did not interest me particularly. I have been seek 
ing to use the discovery rather for detective pur 

He paused and with a fine needle traced out some 
of the lines on the photographs before us. 

" That," he went on, " is a highly magnified pho 
tograph of a minute section of the phonographic 
record of the voice that called you up, Carton, as 
editor of the Wall Street Record. The upper and 
lower lines, with long regular waves, are formed 
by a voice with no overtones. Those three broader 
lines in the middle, with rhythmic ripples, show the 

Carton and I followed, fascinated by the minute 
ness of his investigation and knowledge. 

' You see," he explained, " when a voice or a 
passage of music sounds or is sung before a phono 
graph, its modulations received upon the diaphragm 
are written by the needle point upon the surface of 
the cylinder or disc in a series of fine waving or 
zig-zag lines of infinitely varying depth and breadth. 

" Close familiarity with such records for about 
forty years has taught Mr. Edison the precise mean 
ing of each slightest variation in the lines. I have 


taken up and elaborated his idea. By examining 
them under the microscope one can analyze each 
tone with mathematical accuracy and can almost 
hear it just as a musician reading the score of a 
song can almost hear the notes." 

" Wonderful," ejaculated Carton. " And you 
mean to say that in that way you can actually iden 
tify a voice? " 

Kennedy nodded. " By examining the records in 
the laboratory, looking them over under a micro 
scope yes. I can count the overtones, say, in a 
singing voice, and it is on the overtones that the 
richness depends. I can recognize a voice mathe 
matically. In short," Craig concluded enthusiasti 
cally, " it is what you might call the Bertillon meas 
urement, the finger-print, the portrait parle of the 
human voice ! " 

Incredible as it seemed, we were forced to be 
lieve, for there on the table lay the graphic evidence 
which he had just so painstakingly interpreted. 

"Who was it?" asked Carton breathlessly. 

Kennedy picked up another microphotograph. 
' That is the record I took of one of the calls I 
made merely for the purpose of obtaining samples 
of voices to compare with this of the impersonator. 
The two agree in every essential detail and none 
of the others could be confounded by an expert who 
studied them. Your ' wolf ' was your old friend 

" Fighting back at me by his usual underhand 
methods," exclaimed Carton in profound disguist. 


" Or else trying himself to get control of the 
Black Book," added Kennedy. " If you will stop 
to think a moment, his shafts have been levelled 
quite as much at discrediting Langhorne as yourself. 
He might hope to kill two birds with one stone 
and incidentally save himself." 

" You mean that he wants to lay a foundation 
now for questioning the accuracy of the Black Book 
if it ever comes to light? " 

" Perhaps," assented Kennedy carefully. 

" Surely we should take some steps to protect our 
selves from his impostures," hastened Carton. 

" I have no objections to your calling him up and 
telling him that we know what he is up to and can 
trace it to him provided you don't tell him how we 
did it yet." 

Carton had seized the telephone and was hastily 
calling every place in which Kahn was likely to be. 
He was not at either of his offices, nor at Farrell's, 
but at each place successively Carton left a message 
which told the story and which he could hardly fail 
to receive soon. 

As Carton finished, Kennedy seemed to be emerg 
ing from a brown study. He rose slowly and put 
on his hat. 

" Your story about Murtha's commitment inter 
ests me," he remarked, " particularly since you men 
tioned Dorgan's name in connection with it. I've 
been thinking about Murtha myself a good deal 
since I heard about his condition. I want to see him 


Carton hesitated a minute. " I can break an en 
gagement I had to speak to-night," he said. " Yes, 
I'll go with you. It's more important to look to the 
foundations than to the building just now." 

A few minutes later we were all on our way in a 
touring car to the private sanitarium up in West- 
chester, where it had been announced that Murtha 
had been taken. 

I had apprehended that we would have a great 
deal of difficulty either in getting admitted at all or 
in seeing Murtha himself. We arrived at the sani 
tarium, a large building enclosed by a high brick 
wall, and evidently once a fine country estate, at just 
about dusk. To my surprise, as we stopped at the 
entrance, we had no difficulty in being admitted. 

For a moment, as we waited in the richly fur 
nished reception room, I listened to the sounds that 
issued from other parts of the building. Something 
was clearly afoot, for things were in a state of dis 
order. I had not an extensive acquaintance with 
asylums for the care and treatment of the insane, 
but the atmosphere of excitement which palpably 
pervaded the air was not what one would have ex 
pected. I began to think of Poe's Dr. Tarr and 
Professor Fether, and wonder whether there might 
not have been a revolution in the place and the 
patients have taken charge of their keepers. 

At last one of the attendants passed the door. 
No one had paid any attention to us since our ad 
mission and this man, too, was going to pass us 
without notice. 


" I beg your pardon," interrupted Kennedy, who 
had heard his footsteps approaching and had placed 
himself in the hallway so that the attendant could 
not pass, " but we have called to see Mr. Murtha." 

The attendant eyed us curiously. I expected him 
to say that it was against the rules, or to question 
our right to see the patient. 

" I'm afraid you're too late," he said briefly, in 

" Too late? " queried Kennedy sharply. " What 
do you mean? " 

The man answered promptly as if that were the 
quickest way to get back to his own errand. 

" Mr. Murtha escaped from his keepers this eve 
ning, just after dinner, and there is no trace of 



MURTHA'S escape from the sanitarium had 
again thrown our calculations into chaos. 
We rode back to the city in silence, and even Ken 
nedy had no explanation to offer. 

Even at a late hour that night, although a wide 
spread alarm had been sent out for him, no trace 
of the missing man could be found. The next morn 
ing's papers, of course, were full of the strange dis 
appearance, but gave no hint of his discovery. In 
fact, all day the search was continued by the au 
thorities, but without result. 

On the face of it, it seemed incredible that a man 
who was so well known, especially to the thousands 
of police and others in the official and political life of 
the city, could remain at large unrecognized. Still, 
I recalled other cases where prominent men had dis 
appeared. The facts in Murtha's case spoke for 

Comparatively little occurred during the day, al 
though the political campaign which had begun with 
the primaries many weeks before was now drawing 
nearer its close and the campaigners were getting 
ready for the final spurt to the finish. 

With Kennedy's unmasking of the unprincipled 


activities of Kahn, that worthy changed his tactics, 
or at least dropped out of our sight. Mrs. Ogleby 
lunched with Langhorne and I began to suspect that 
the shadow that had been placed on her could not 
have been engaged by Martin Ogleby, for he was 
not the kind who would take reports of the sort com- 
plaisantly. Someone else must be interested. 

As for the Black Book itself, I wondered more 
as time went on that no one made use of it. Even 
though we gained no hint from Langhorne after the 
peculiar robbery of his safe, it was impossible to 
tell whether or not he still retained the detectaphone 
record. On the other hand, if Dorgan had obtained 
it by using the services of someone in the criminal 
hierarchy that Murtha had built up, it would not 
have been likely that we would have heard anything 
about it. We were in the position of men fighting 
several adversaries in the dark without knowing 
exactly whom we fought. 

We had just finished dinner, that night, Kennedy 
and I, and, as had been the case in most of the wak 
ing hours of the previous twenty-four, had been spec 
ulating on the possible solution of the mysterious 
dropping out of sight of Murtha. The evening 
papers had contained nothing that the morning 
papers had not already published and Kennedy had 
tossed the last of an armful into the scrap basket 
when the buzzer on the door of our apartment 

A young man stood there as I opened the door, 
and handed me a note, as he touched his hat. " A 


message for Professor Kennedy from Mr. Carton, 
sir," he announced. 

I recognized him as Carton's valet as he stood 
impatiently waiting for Craig to read the letter. 

" It's all right there's no answer I'll see him 
immediately," nodded Kennedy, tossing the hasty 
scrawl over to me as the valet disappeared. 

u My study at home has been robbed, probably 
by sneak thieves," read the note. " Would you like 
to look it over? I can't find anything missing ex 
cept a bundle of old and valueless photographs. 

" Looks as if someone thought Carton might have 
got that Black Book from Langhorne," I com 
mented, following the line on which I had been 
thinking at the time. 

" And the taking of the photographs was merely 
a blind, after not finding it?" Kennedy queried, I 
cannot say much impressed by my theory. 

" Perhaps," I acquiesced weakly, as we went out. 

Instead of turning in the direction of Carton's 
immediately, Kennedy walked across the campus 
toward the Chemistry Building. At the laboratory 
we loaded ourselves with a large and heavy oblong 
case containing a camera and a tripod. 

The Cartons lived in an old section of the city 
which still retained something of its aristocratic air, 
having been passed by, as it were, like an eddy in 
the stream of business that swirled uptown, engulf 
ing everything. 

It was an old four-story brownstone house which 


had been occupied by his father and grandfather 
before him, and now was the home of Carton, his 
mother, and his sister. 

" I'm glad to see you," Carton met us at the door. 
" This isn't quite as classy a robbery as Langhorne's 
but it's just as mysterious. Must have happened 
while the family were at dinner. That's why I said 
it was a robbery by a sneak thief." 

He was leading the way to his study, which was 
in an extension of the house, in the rear. 

" I hope you've left things as they were," ven 
tured Craig. 

" I did," assured Carton. " I know your penchant 
for such things and almost the first thought I had 
was that you'd prefer it that way. So I shut the 
door and sent William after you. By the way, what 
have you done with him? " 

" Nothing," returned Craig. " Isn't he back 

" No oh, well I don't need him right away." 

" And nothing was taken except some old photo 
graphs? " asked Craig, looking intently at Carton's 

" That is all I can find missing," he returned 

Kennedy's examination of the looted study was 
minute, taking in the window through which the 
thief had apparently entered, the cabinet he had 
forced, and the situation in general. Finally he set 
up his camera with most particular care and took 
several flashlight pictures of the window, the cabi- 


net, the doors including the study from every 
angle. Outside he examined the extension and back 
of the house carefully, noting possible ways of 
getting from the side street across the fences into 
the Carton yard. 

With Carton we returned to Craig's splendidly 
equipped photographic studio and while Carton and 
I made the best of our time by discussing various 
phases of the case, Kennedy employed the interval 
in developing his plates. 

He had ten or a dozen prints, all of exactly the 
same size, mounted on stiff cardboard in a space 
with scales and figures on all four margins. Carton 
and I puzzled over them. 

" Those are metric photographs, such as Bertillon 
of Paris used to take," Craig explained. " By means 
of the scales and tables and other methods that 
have been worked out, we can determine from those 
pictures distances and many other things almost as 
well as if we were on the spot ourselves. Bertillon 
cleared up many crimes with this help, such as the 
mystery of the shooting in the Hotel Quai d'Orsay 
and other cases. The metric photograph, I believe, 
will in time rank with other devices in the study of 

He was going over the photographs carefully. 

" For instance," he continued, " in order to solve 
the riddle of a crime, the detective's first task is to 
study the scene topographically. Plans and eleva 
tions of a room or house are made. The position of 
each object !S painstakingly noted. In addition, the 


all-seeing eye of the camera is called into requisi 
tion. The plundered room is photographed, as in 
this case. I might have done it by placing a foot 
rule on a table and taking that in the picture. But 
a more scientific and accurate method has been de 
vised by Bertillon. His camera lens is always used 
at a fixed height from the ground and forms its 
image on the plate at an exact focus. The print 
made from the negative is mounted on a card in a 
space of definite size, along the edges of which a 
metric scale is printed. In the way he has worked 
it out, the distance between any two points in the 
picture can be determined. With a topographical 
plan and a metric photograph one can study a crime, 
as a general studies the map of a strange country. 
There were several peculiar things that I observed 
at your house, Carton, and I have here an indelible 
record of the scene of the crime. Preserved in this 
way, it cannot be questioned. You are sure that the 
only thing missing is the photographs?" 

Carton nodded, "I never keep anything valuable 
lying around." 

"Well," resumed Kennedy, "the photographs 
were in this cabinet. There are other cabinets, but 
none of them seems to have been disturbed. There 
fore the thief must have known just what he was 
after. The marks made in breaking the lock were 
not those of a jimmy, but of a screwdriver. No 
amazing command of the resources of science is 
needed so far. All that is necessary is a little scien 
tific common sense." 


Carton glanced at me, and I smiled, for it always 
did seem so easy, when Craig did it, and so impossi 
ble when we tried to go it alone. 

"Now, how did the robber get in?" he continued, 
thoroughly engrossed in his study. "All the win 
dows were supposedly locked. I saw that a pane 
had been partly cut from this window at the side 
and the pieces were there to show it. But consider 
the outside, a moment. To reach that window even 
a tall man must have stood on a ladder or some 
thing. There were no marks of a ladder or even 
of any person in the soft soil of the garden under 
the window. What is more, that window was cut 
from the inside. The marks of the diamond which 
cut it plainly show that. Scientific common sense 

"Then it must have been someone in the house 
or at least familiar with it?" I exclaimed. 

Kennedy shook his head affirmatively. 

I had been wondering who it could be. Certainly 
this was not the work of Dopey Jack, even if the 
far cleverer attempt on Langhorne's safe had been. 
But it might have been one of his gang. I had not 
got as far as trying to reason out the why of the 

"Call up your house, Carton," asked Craig. "See 
if William, your valet, has returned." 

Carton did so, and a moment later turned to us 
with a look of perplexity on his face. "No," he 
reported, "he hasn't come back yet. I can't imag 
ine where he is." 


" He won't come back," asserted Kennedy posi 
tively. " It was an inside job and he did it." 

Carton gasped astonishment. 

" At any rate," pursued Kennedy, " one thing we 
have which the police greatly neglect -a record. We 
have made some progress in reconstructing the crime, 
as Bertillon used to call it." 

" Strange that he should take only photographs," 
I mused. 

"What were they?" asked Kennedy, and again 
I saw that he was looking intently at Carton's face. 

" Nothing much," returned Carton unhesitatingly, 
" just some personal photographs of no real value 
except to me. Most of them were amateur photo 
graphs, too, pictures of myself in various groups at 
different times and places that I kept for the asso 

" Nothing that might be used by an enemy for any 
purpose ? " suggested Kennedy. 

Carton laughed. " More likely to be used by 
friends," he replied frankly. 

Still, I felt that there must have been some sinister 
purpose back of the robbery. In that respect it 
was like the scientific cracking of Langhorne's safe. 
Langhorne, too, though he had been robbed, had 
been careful to disclaim the loss of anything of value. 
I frankly had not believed Langhorne, yet Carton 
was not of the same type and I felt that his open 
face would surely have disclosed to us any real loss 
that he suffered or apprehension that he felt over 
the robbery. 


I was forced to give it up, and I think Kennedy, 
too, had decided not to worry over the crossing of 
any bridges until at least we knew that there were 
bridges to be crossed. 

Carton was worried more by the discovery that 
one he had trusted even as a valet had proved un 
faithful. He knew, however, as well as we did 
that one of the commonest methods of the under 
world when they wished to pull off a robbery was 
to corrupt one of the servants of a house. Still, it 
looked strange, for the laying of such an elaborate 
plan usually preceded only big robberies, such as 
jewelery or silver. For myself, I was forced back 
on my first theory that someone had concluded that 
Carton had the Black Book, had concocted this 
elaborate scheme to get what was really of more 
value than much jewelry, and had found out that 
Carton did not have the precious detectaphone rec 
ord, after all. I knew that there were those who 
would have gone to any length to get it. 

A general alarm was given, through the police, 
for the apprehension of William, but we had small 
hope that anything would result from it, for at that 
time Carton's enemies controlled the police and I 
am not sure but that they would have been just a 
little more dilatory in apprehending one who had 
done Carton an injury than if it had been someone 
else. It was too soon, that night, of course, to ex 
pect to learn anything, anyhow. 

It was quite late, but it had been a confining day 
for Kennedy who had spent the hours while not 


working on Carton's case in some of the ceaseless 
and recondite investigations of his own to which he 
was always turning his restless mind. 

" Suppose we walk a little way downtown with 
Carton?" he suggested. 

I was not averse, and by the time we arrived in the 
white light belt of Broadway the theatres were let 
ting out. 

Above the gaiety of the crowds one could hear 
the shrill cry of some belated newsboys, calling an 
" Extra Special " the only superlative left to one 
of the more enterprising papers whose every issue 
was an " Extra." 

Kennedy bought one, with the laughing remark, 
" Perhaps it's about your robbery, Carton." 

It was only a second before the smile on his face 
changed to a look of extreme gravity. We crowded 
about him. In red ink across the head of the paper 
were the words: 


Down in a lower corner, in a little box into which 
late news could be dropped, also in red ink, was the 
brief account: 

This morning the body of an unknown man was 
found in The Bronx near the Westchester Railroad 
tracks. He had been run over and badly mutilated. 
After lying all day in the local morgue, it was trans 
ferred, still unidentified, to the city Morgue down 


Early this evening one of the night attendants 
recognized the unidentified body as that of Murtha, 
" the Smiling Boss," whose escape day before yes 
terday from an asylum in Westchester has remained 
a mystery until now. 

" Well what do you think of that ! " ejaculated 
Carton. " Murtha dead and I thought the whole 
thing was a job they were putting up on me ! " 

Kennedy crooked his finger at a cabby who was 
alertly violating the new ordinance and soliciting 
fares away from a public cab stand. 

"The Morgue quick!" he ordered, not even 
noticing the flabbergasted look on the jehu's face, 
who was not accustomed to carrying people thither 
from the primrose path of Broadway quite so rap 


THERE had come a lull in the activities which 
never entirely cease, night or day, in the dingy 
building at the foot of East Twenty-sixth Street. 
Across the street in the municipal lodging-house the 
city's homeless were housed for the night. Even 
ever wakeful Bellevue Hospital nearby was com 
paratively quiet. 

The last " dead boat " which carries the city's un 
claimed corpses away for burial had long ago left, 
when we arrived. The anxious callers who pass all 
day through the portals of the mortuary chamber 
seeking lost friends and relatives had disappeared. 
Except for the night keeper and one or two assist 
ants, the Morgue was empty save of the overcrowded 

Years before, as a cub reporter on the Star, I had 
had the gruesome assignment once of the Morgue. 
It was the same old place after all these years and 
it gave me the same creepy sensations now as it did 
then. Even the taxicab driver seemed glad to set 
down his fares and speed away. 

It was ghoulish. I felt then and I did still that 
instead of contributing to the amelioration of con 
ditions that could not be otherwise than harrowing, 



everything about the old Morgue lent itself to the 
increase of the horror of the surroundings. 

As Kennedy, Carton, and I entered, we found that 
the principal chamber in the place was circular. Its 
walls were lined with the ends of caskets, which, fit 
ting close into drawer-like apertures were constantly 
enveloped in the refrigerated air. 

It seemed, even at that hour, that if these recep 
tacles were even adequate to contain all of the daily 
tenants of the Morgue, much of the anguish and 
distress inseparable from such a place might be 
spared those who of necessity must visit the place 
seeking their dead. As it was, even for those bound 
by no blood ties to the unfortunates who found their 
way to the city Morgue, the room was a veritable 
chamber of horror. 

We stood in horrified amazement at what we saw. 
On the floor, which should be kept clear, lay the 
overflow of the day's intake. Bodies for which there 
was no room in the cooling boxes, others which were 
yet awaiting claimants, and still more awaiting trans 
fer to the public burying ground, lay about in their 
rough coffins, many of them brutally exposed. 

It seemed, too, that if ever there was a time when 
conditions might have been expected to have halfway 
adjusted themselves to the pressure which by day 
brought out all too clearly the hopeless inadequacy 
of the facilities provided by the city to perform one 
of its most important and inevitable functions, it was 
at that early morning hour of our visit. Presumably 
preparation had been completed for the busy day 


about to open by setting all into some semblance of 
respectful order. But such was not the case. It was 

In one group, I recall, which an attendant said 
had been awaiting his removal for a couple of days, 
the rough board coffins, painted the uniform brown 
of the city's institutions, lay open, without so much as 
face coverings over the dead. 

They lay as they had been sent in from various 
hospitals. Most of them were bereft of all the 
decencies usual with the dead, in striking contrast, 
however, with the bodies from Bellevue, which were 
all closely swathed in bandages and shrouds. 

One body, that of a negro, which had been sent 
in to the Morgue from a Harlem hospital, lay just 
as it came, utterly bare, exposing to public view all 
the gruesome marks of the autopsy. I wondered 
whether anything like that might be found to be the 
fate of the once jovial and popular Murtha, when 
we found him. 

I almost forgot our mission in the horror of the 
place, for, nearby was an even more heartrending 
sight. Piled in several heaps much higher than a 
man's head and as carelessly as cordwood were the 
tiny coffins holding the babies which the authorities 
are called on by the poor of the city to bury in large 
numbers far too poor to meet the cost of the cheap 
est decent burial. Atop the stack of regulation 
coffins were the nondescript receptacles made use of 
by the very poor the most pathetic a tiny box from 
the corner grocery. The bodies, some dozens of 


them, lay like so much merchandise, awaiting ship 

" What a barbarity! " I heard Craig mutter, for 
even he, though now and then forced to visit the 
place when one of his cases took him there, espe 
cially when it was concerned with an autopsy, had 
never become hardened to it. 

Often I had heard him denounce the primitive ap 
pointments, especially in the autopsy rooms. The 
archaic attempts to utilize the Morgue for scientific 
investigation were the occasion for practices that 
shocked even the initiated. For the lack of suitable 
depositories for the products of autopsies, these ob 
jects were plainly visible in rude profusion when a 
door was opened to draw out a body for inspection. 
About and around the slabs whereon the human 
bodies lay, in bottles and in plates, this material 
which had no place except in the cabinets of a lab 
oratory was inhumanly displayed in profusion, close 
to corpses for which a morgue is expected to provide 
some degree of reverential care. 

' You see," apologized the keeper, not averse to 
throwing the blame on someone else, for it indeed 
was not his but the city's fault, " one reason why so 
many bodies have to remain uncared for is that I 
could show you cooling box after cooling box with 
some subject which figured during the past few 
months in the police records. Why victims of mur 
ders committed long ago should be held indefinitely, 
and their growing numbers make it impossible to 
give proper places to each day's temporary bodies, 


I can't say. Sometimes," he added with a sly dig 
at Carton, " the only explanation seems to be that 
the District Attorney's office has requested the pres 
ervation of the grisly relics." 

I could see that Carton was making a mental note 
that the practice would be ended as far as his office 
was concerned. 

" So you saw the story in the newspapers about 
Mr. Murtha," repeated the keeper, not displeased 
to see us and at the publicity it gave him. " It was 
I that discovered him and yet ma-any's the times 
some of the boys that must have handled the body 
since it was picked up beside the tracks must have 
seen him. It was too late to get anyone to take the 
body away to-night, but the arrangements have all 
been made, and it will be done early in the morning 
before anyone else sees Pat Murtha here, as he 
shouldn't be. We've done what we could for him 
ourselves he was a fine gentleman and many's the 
boy that owes a boost up in life to him." 

Reverentially even the hardened keeper drew out 
one of the best of the drawer-like boxes. On the 
slab before us lay the body. Carton drew back, ex 
citedly, shocked. 

" It 5 Murtha ! " he exclaimed. 

I, too, looked at it quickly. The name as Carton 
pronounced it, in such a place, had, to me at least, 
an unpleasant likeness to " murder." 

Kennedy had bent down and was examining the 
mutilated body minutely. 

" How do you suppose such a thing is possible 


that he could lie about the city, even here until the 
night keeper came on, unknown?" asked Carton, 

" I don't know," I said, " but I imagine that in 
connection with the actual inadequacy of the equip 
ment one would find reflected the same makeshift 
character in the attitude and actions of those who 
handle the city's dead. It used to be the case, at 
least, that the facilities for keeping records were 
often almost totally neglected, and not through the 
fault of the Morgue keepers, entirely. But, I un 
derstand it is better now." 

" This is terrible," repeated Carton, averting his 
face. " Really, Jameson, it makes me feel like a 
hound, for ever thinking that Murtha might have 
been putting up a game on me. Poor old Murtha 
I should have preferred to remember him as the 
' Smiling Boss ' as everyone always called him ! " 

I called to mind the last time we had seen Murtha, 
in Carton's office as the bearer of an offer which 
had made Carton almost beside himself with anger 
at the thought of the insult that he would compro 
mise with the organization. What a contrast, this, 
with the Murtha who, in turn, had been trembling 
with passion at Carton's refusal ! 

And yet I could not but reflect on the strangeness 
of it all the fact that the organization, of which 
Murtha was a part, had by its neglect and failure 
to care for the human side of government when 
there was graft to be collected, brought about the 
very conditions which had made possible such neg- 


lect of the district leader's body, as it had been 
bandied back and forth, unwittingly by many who 
owed their very positions to the organization. 

I could not help but think that if he had served 
humanity with one-half the zeal which he had served 
graft, this could not have happened. 

The more I contemplated the case, the more tragic 
did it seem to me. I longed for the assignment of 
writing the story for the Star the chance I would 
have had in the old days to bring in a story that 
would have got me a nod of approval from my 
superior. I determined, as soon as possible, to get 
the Star on the wire and try to express some of the 
thoughts that were surging through my brain in the 
face of this awful and unexpected occurrence. 

There he lay, alone, uncared for except by such 
rude hands as those of the Morgue attendants. I 
could not help reflecting on the strange vicissitudes 
of human life, and death, which levelled all distinc 
tions between men of high and low degree. Murtha 
had almost literally sprung from the streets. His 
career had been one possible only in the social and 
political conditions of his times. And now he had 
only by the narrowest chance escaped a burial in a 
pauper's grave at the hands of the city which he had 
helped Dorgan to debauch. 

Carton, too, I could see was overwhelmed. For 
the moment he did not even think of how this blow 
to the System might affect his own chances. It was 
only the pitiful wreck of a human being before us 
that he saw. 


I was not an expert on study of wounds, such as 
was Kennedy, who was examining Murtha's body 
with minute care, now and then muttering under his 
breath at the rough and careless handling it had re 
ceived in its various transfers about the city. But 
there were some terrible wounds and disfigurements 
on the body, which added even more to the horror 
of the case. 

One thing, I felt, was fortunate. Murtha had had 
no family. There had been plenty of scandal about 
him, but as far as I knew there was no one except 
his old cronies in the organization to be shocked by 
his loss, no living tragedy left in the wake of this. 

" How do you suppose it happened? " I asked the 
night keeper. 

He shook his head doubtfully. " No one knows, 
of course," he replied slowly. " But I think the big 
fellow got worse up there in that asylum. He wasn't 
used to anything but having his own way, you know. 
They say he must have waited his chance, after the 
dinner hour, when things were quiet, and then slipped 
out while no one was looking. He may have been 
crazy, but you can bet your life Pat Murtha was 
the smartest crazy man they ever had up there. They 
couldn't hold him." 

" I see," I said, struck by the faith which the man 
had inspired even in those who held the lowest of 
city positions. " But I meant how do you suppose 
he was killed? " 

The attendant looked at me thoughtfully a while. 
" Young man," he answered, " I ain't saying nothing 


and it may have been an accident after all. Have 
you ever been up in that part of town? " 

I had not and said so. 

" Well," he continued, " those electric trains do 
sneak up on a fellow fast. It may have been an 
accident, all right. The coroner up there said so, 
and I guess he ought to know. It must have been 
late at night perhaps he was wandering away from 
the ordinary roads for fear of being recaptured. No 
one knows I guess no one will know, ever. But 
it's a sad day for many of the boys. He helped a 
lot of 'em. And Mr. Dorgan he knows what a 
loss it is, too. I hear that it's hit the Chief hard." 

The attendant, rough though he was and har 
dened by the daily succession of tragedies, could not 
restrain an honest catch in his voice over the passing 
of the " big fellow," as some of them called the 
" Smiling Boss." It was a pretty good object lesson 
on the power of the system which the organization 
had built up, how Murtha, and even the more dis 
tant Dorgan himself, had endeared himself to his 
followers and henchmen. Perhaps it was corrupt, 
but it was at least human, and that was a great deal 
in a world full of inhumanities. In the face of what 
had happened, one felt that much might be forgiven 
Murtha for his shortcomings, especially as the era 
of the Murthas and Dorgans was plainly passing. 

" Here at least," whispered Carton, as we with 
drew to a corner to escape the palling atmosphere, 
" is one who won't worry about what happens to that 
Black Book any more. I wonder what he really 


knew about it what secrets he carried away with 

" I can't say," I returned. " But, one thing it 
does. It must relieve Mrs. Ogleby's fears a bit. 
With Murtha out of the way there is one less to 
gossip about what went on at Gastron's that night 
of the dinner." 

He said nothing and just then Kennedy straight 
ened up, as though he had finished his examination. 
We hurried over to him. I thought the look on 
Craig's face was peculiar. 

"What is it what did you find?" both Carton 
and I asked. 

Kennedy did not answer immediately. 

" I I can't say," he answered slowly at length, 
as we thanked the Morgue keeper for his courtesy 
and left the place. " In fact I'd rather not say 
until I know." 

I knew from previous experiences that it was of 
no use to try to quiz Kennedy. He was a veritable 
Gradgrind for facts, facts, facts. As for myself, I 
could not help wondering whether, after all, Mur 
tha might not have been the victim of foul play 
and, if so, by whom? 


WE did not have to wait long for the secret 
of the robbery of Carton to come out. It 
was not in any " extras," or in the morning papers 
the next day, but it came through a secret source of 
information to the Reform League. 

" A clerk in the employ of the organization who 
is really a detective employed by the Reform 
League," groaned Carton, as he told us the story 
himself the next morning at his office, " has just given 
us the information that they have prepared a long 
and circumstantial story about me about my inti 
macy with Mrs. Ogleby and Murtha and some 
others. The story of the robbery of my study is 
in the papers this morning. To-morrow they plan 
to publish some photographs alleged to have been 

" Photographs Mrs. Ogleby," repeated Ken 
nedy. "Real ones?" 

" No," exclaimed Carton quickly, " of course not 
fakes. Don't you see the scheme? First they 
lay a foundation in the robbery, knowing that the 
public is satisfied with sensations, and that they will 
be sure to believe that the robbery was put up by 
some muckrakers to obtain material for an expose. I 



wasn't worried last night. I knew 1 had nothing to 

" Then what of it ? " I asked naively. 

" A good deal of it," returned Carton excitedly, 
" The story is to be, as I understand it, that the fake 
pictures were among those stolen from me and that 
in a roundabout way they came into the possession of 
someone in the organization, without their knowing 
who the thief was. Of course they don't know who 
took them and the original plates or films are de 
stroyed, but they've concocted some means of put 
ting a date on them early in the spring." 

" What are they that they should take such pains 
with them?" persisted Kennedy, looking fixedly at 

Carton met his look without flinching. ' They 
are supposed to be photographs of myself," he re 
peated. " One purports to represent me in a group 
composed of Mrs. Ogleby, Murtha, another woman 
whom I do not even know, and myself. I am stand 
ing between Murtha and Mrs. Ogleby and we look 
very familiar. Another is a picture of the same four 
riding in a car, owned by Murtha. Oh, there are 
several of them, of that sort." 

He paused as a dozen unspoken questions framed 
themselves in my mind. " I don't hesitate to ad 
mit," he added, " that a few months ago I knew 
Mrs. Ogleby socially. But there was nothing to 
it. I never knew Murtha well, and the other woman 
I never saw. At various times I have been present 
at affairs where she was, but I know that no pictures 


were ever taken, and even if there had been, I would 
not care, provided they told the truth about them. 
What I do care about is the sworn allegation that, I 
understand, is to accompany these these fakes." 

His voice broke. " It's a lie from start to finish, 
but just think of it, Kennedy," he went on. " Here 
is the story, and here, too, are the pictures at least 
they will be, in print, to-morrow. Now, you know 
nothing could hurt the reform ticket worse than to 
have a scandal like this raised at this time. There 
may be just enough people to believe that there is 
some basis for the suspicion to turn the tide against 
me. If it were earlier in the campaign, I might ac 
cept the issue, fight it out to a finish, and in the turn 
of events I should have really the best sort of cam 
paign material. But it is too late now to expose 
such a knavish trick on the Saturday before election." 

" Can't we buy them off ? " I ventured, perplexed 
beyond measure at this new and unexpected turn of 

" No, I won't," persisted Carton, shutting his 
square jaw doggedly. " I won't be held up even 
if that is possible." 

" Miss Ashton on the wire," announced a boy 
from the outer office. 

The look on Carton's face was a study. I saw 
directly what was the trouble far more important 
to him than a mere election. 

" Tell her I'm out will be back soon," he mut 
tered, for the first time hesitating to speak to her. 

" You see," he continued blackly, " I'll fight if 


it takes my last dollar, but I won't allow myself to 
be blackmailed out of a cent no, not a cent," he 
thundered, a heightened look of determination fix 
ing the lines on his face as he brought his fist down 
with a rattling bang on the desk. 

Kennedy was saying nothing. He was letting Car 
ton ease his mind of the load which had been sud 
denly thrust upon it. Carton was now excitedly 
pacing the floor. 

" They believe plainly," he continued, growing 
more excited as he paced up and down, " that the 
pictures will of course be accepted by the public as 
among those stolen from me, and in that, I suppose, 
they are right. The public will swallow it. If I say 
I'll prosecute, they'll laugh and tell me to go ahead, 
that they didn't steal the pictures. Our informant 
tells us that a hundred copies have been made of 
each and that they have them ready to drop into the 
mail to the leading hundred papers, not only of this 
city but of the state, in time for them to appear 
Sunday. They think that no amount of denying on 
our part can destroy the effect." 

' That's it," I persisted. " The only way is to 
buy them off." 

" But, Jameson," argued Carton, " I repeat 
they are false. It is a plot of Dorgan's, the last fight 
of a boss, driven into a corner, for his life. And it 
is meaner than if he had attempted to forge a letter. 
Pictures appeal to the eye much more than letters. 
That's what makes the thing so dangerous. Dorgan 
knows how to make the best use of such a roorback 


on the eve of an election and even if I not only deny 
but prove that they are a fake, I'm afraid the harm 
will be done. I can't reach all the voters in time. 
Ten see such a charge to one who sees the denial." 

He looked from one to the other of us helplessly. 
" If we had a week or two, it might be all right. But 
I can't make any move to-day without making a fool 
of myself, nothing until they are published, as the 
last big thing of the campaign. Monday and Tues 
day morning do not give me time to reply in the 
papers and hammer it in. Even if they were out 
now, it would not give me time to make of it an 
asset instead of a liability. And then, too, it means 
that I am diverted by this thing, that I let up in the 
final efforts that we have so carefully planned to cap 
the campaign. That in itself is as much as Dorgan 
wants, anyway." 

Kennedy had been, so far, little more than an in 
terested listener, but now he asked pointedly, " You 
have copies of the pictures? " 

" No but I've been promised them this morn 

" H'm," mused Craig, turning the crisis over in 
his mind. " We've had alleged stolen and forged 
letters before, but alleged stolen and forged photo 
graphs are new. I'm not surprised that you are 
alarmed, Carton, nor that Walter suggests buying 
them off. But I agree with you, Carton it's best to 
fight, to admit nothing, as you would imply by any 
other method." 

" Then you think you can trace down the forger 


of those pictures before it is too late? " urged Car 
ton, leaning forward almost like a prisoner in the 
dock to catch the words of the foreman of the jury. 

" I haven't said I can do that yet," measured 
Craig with provoking slowness. 

" Say, Kennedy, you're not going to desert me? " 
reproached Carton. 

Kennedy laughed as he put his hand on Carton's 

" I've been afraid of something like this," he said, 
" ever since I began to realize that you had once been 
er foolish enough to become even slightly ac 
quainted with that adventuress, Mrs. Ogleby. My 
advice is to fight, not to get in wrong by trying to 
dicker, for that might amount to confession, and suit 
Dorgan's purpose just as well. Photographs," he 
added sententiously, " are like statistics. They don't 
lie unless the people who make them do. But it's 
hard to tell what a liar can accomplish with either, 
in an election. I I don't know that I'd desert you 
if the pictures were true. I'd be sure there was 
some other explanation." 

" I knew it," responded Carton heartily. " Your 
hand on that, Kennedy. Say, I think I've shaken 
hands with half the male population of this city 
since I was nominated, but this means more than any 
of them. Spare no reasonable expense and get 
the goods, no matter whom it hits higher up Lang- 
horne anybody. And, for God's sake get it in time 
there's more than an election that hangs on it ! " 

Carton looked Kennedy squarely in the eye again, 


and we all understood what it was he meant that 
was at stake. It might be possible after all to gloss 
over almost anything and win the election, but none 
of us dared to think what it might mean if Miss 
Ashton not only suspected that Carton had been 
fraternizing with the bosses but also that there had 
been or by some possibility could be anything really 
in common between him and Mrs. Ogleby. 

That, after all, I saw was the real question. How 
would Miss Ashton take it? Could she ever for 
give him if it were possible for Langhorne to turn 
the tables and point with scorn at the man who had 
once been his rival for her hand? What might be 
the effect on her of any disillusionment, of any ridi 
cule that Langhorne might artfully heap up ? As we 
left Carton, I shared with Kennedy his eagerness to 
get at the truth, now, and win the fight the two 

" I want to see Miss Ashton, first," remarked 
Kennedy when we were outside. 

Personally I thought that it was a risky business, 
but felt that Kennedy must know best. 

When we arrived at the Reform League head 
quarters, the clerks and girls had already set to work, 
and the office was a hive of industry in the rush of 
winding up the campaign. Typewriters were click 
ing, clippings were being snipped out of a huge stack 
of newspapers and pasted into large scrapbooks, 
circulars were being folded and made ready to mail 
for the final appeal. 

Carton's office there had been in the centre of the 


suite. On one side were the cashier and bookkeeper, 
the clerical force and the speakers' bureau, where 
spellbinders of all degrees were getting instructions, 
final tours were being laid out, and reports received 
of meetings already held. 

On the other side was the press bureau, with its 
large and active force, in charge of Miss Ashton. 

As we entered we saw Miss Ashton very busy 
over something. Her back was toward us, but the 
moment she turned at hearing us we could see that 
something was the matter. 

Kennedy wasted no time in coming to the point 
of his visit. We had scarcely seated ourselves be 
side her desk when he leaned over and said in a low 
voice, " Miss Ashton, I think I can trust you. I 
have called to see you about a matter of vital im 
portance to Mr. Carton." 

She did not betray even by a fleeting look on her 
proud face what the true state of her feelings was. 

" I don't know whether you know, but an attempt 
is being made to slander Mr. Carton," went on Ken 

Still she said nothing, though it was evident that 
she was thinking much. 

" I suppose in a large force like this that it is not 
impossible that your political enemies may have a 
spy or two," observed Kennedy, glancing about at 
the score or more clerks busily engaged in getting 
out the " literature." 

" I have sometimes thought that myself," she 
murmured, " but of course I don't know. There 


isn't anything for them to discover in this office, 

Kennedy looked up quickly at the significant stress 
on the word " this." She saw that Kennedy was 
watching. Margaret Ashton might have made a 
good actress, that is, in something in which her 
personal feelings were not involved, as they were 
in this case. She was now pale and agitated. 

" I I can't believe it," she managed to say. " Oh, 
Mr. Kennedy I would almost rather not have 
known it at all, only I suppose I must have known 
it sooner or later." 

" Believe me, Miss Ashton," soothed Kennedy, 
" you ought to know. It is on you that I depend 
for many things. But, tell me, how do you know 
already? I didn't think it was known." 

She was still pale, and replied nervously, " Our 
detective in the organization brought the pictures 
up here one of the girls opened them by mistake 
it got about the office I couldn't help but know." 

" Miss Ashton," remonstrated Kennedy sooth 
ingly, " I beg you to be calm. I had no idea you 
would take it like this, no idea. Please, please. Re 
member pictures can lie just like words." 

" I I hope you're right," she managed to reply 
slowly. " I'm all broken up by it. I'm ready to 
resign. My faith in human nature is shaken. No, 
I won't say anything about Mr. Carton to anyone. 
But it cuts me to have to think that Hartley Lang- 
horne may have been right. He always used to say 
that every man had his price. I am afraid this will 


do great harm to the cause of reform and through it 
to the woman suffrage cause which made me cast 
myself in with the League. I I can hardly be 
lieve " 

Kennedy was still looking earnestly at her. " Miss 
Ashton," he implored, " believe nothing. Remem 
ber one of the first rules of politics in the organiza 
tion you are fighting is loyalty. Wait until " 

"Wait?" she echoed. " How can I? I hate 

Mr. Carton for for even knowing " she paused 

just in time to substitute Mr. Murtha for Mrs. 
Ogleby " such men as Mr. Murtha secretly." 

She bit her lip at thus betraying her feelings, but 
what she had seen had evidently affected her deeply. 
It was as though the feet of her idol had turned to 

" Just think it over," urged Kennedy. " Don't be 
too harsh. Don't do anything rash. Suspend judg 
ment. You won't regret it." 

Kennedy was apparently doing some rapid think 
ing. " Let me have the photographs," he asked at 

" They are in Mr. Carton's office," she answered, 
as if she would not soil her hands by touching the 
filthy things. 

We excused ourselves and went into Carton's 

There they were wrapped up, and across the pack 
age was written by one of the clerks, " Opened by 

Kennedy opened the package again. Sure enough, 


there were the photographs as plain as they could 
be, the group including Carton, Mrs. Ogleby, Mur- 
tha, and another woman, standing on the porch of 
a gabled building in the sunshine, again the four 
speeding in a touring car, of which the number 
could be read faintly, and other less interesting snap 

As I looked at them I said nothing, but I must ad 
mit that the whole thing began to assume a suspicious 
look in my mind in connection with various hints I 
had heard dropped by organization men about prob 
ing into the past, and other insinuations. I felt that 
far from aiding Carton, things were now getting 
darker. There was nothing but his unsupported 
word that he had not been in such groups to counter 
balance the existence of the actual pictures them 
selves, on the surface a graphic clincher to Dorgan's 
story. Kennedy, however, after an examination of 
the photographs clung no less tenaciously to a pur 
pose he already had in mind, and instead of leaving 
them for Carton, took them himself, leaving a note 

He stopped again to speak to Margaret Ashton. 
I did not hear all of the conversation, but one phrase 
struck me, " And the worst of it is that he called 
me up a little while ago and tried to act toward me 
in the same old way and that after I know what I 
know. I I could detect it in his voice. He knew 
he was concealing something from me." 

What Kennedy said to her, I do not know, but I 
don't think it had much effect. 


' That's the most difficult and unfortunate part 
of the whole affair," he sighed as we left. " She 
believes it." 

I had no comment that was worth while. What 
was to be done? If people believed it generally, 
Carton was ruined. 


D ORGAN was putting up a bold fight, at any 
rate. Everyone, and most of all his oppo 
nents who had once thought they had him on the run, 
was forced to admit that. Moreover, one could not 
help wondering at his audacity, whatever might be 
the opinion of his dishonesty. 

But I was quite as much struck by the nerve of 
Carton. In the face of gathering misfortunes many 
a man of less stern mettle might have gone to pieces. 
Not so with the fighting District Attorney. It 
seemed to spur him on to greater efforts. 

It was a titanic struggle, this between Carton and 
Dorgan, and had reached the point where quarter 
was given or asked by neither. 

Kennedy had retired to his laboratory with the 
photographs and was studying them with an increas 
ing interest. 

It was toward the close of the afternoon when 
the telephone rang and Kennedy motioned to me 
to answer it. 

" If it's Carton," he said quickly, " tell him I'm 
not here. I'm not ready for him yet and I can't be 

I took down the receiver, prepared to perjure my 


immortal soul. It was indeed Carton, bursting with 
news and demanding to see Kennedy immediately. 

Almost before I had finished with the carefully 
framed, glib excuse that I was to make, he shouted 
to me over the wire, " What do you think, Jame 
son? Tell him to come down right away. The im 
possible has happened. I have got under Dopey 
Jack's guard he has confessed. It's big. Tell Ken 
nedy I'll wait here at my office until he comes." 

He had hung up the receiver before I could ques 
tion him further. I think it cured Kennedy, tem 
porarily of asking me to fib for him over the tele 
phone. He was as anxious as I to see Carton, now, 
and plunged into the remaining work on the photo 
graphs eagerly. 

He finished much sooner than he would, otherwise, 
and only to preserve the decency of the excuse that 
I had made did not hasten down to the Criminal 
Courts Building before a reasonable time had 

As we entered Carton's office we could tell from 
the very atmosphere of the halls that something was 
happening. The reporters in their little room out 
side were on the qui vive and I heard a whisper and 
a busy scratching of pencils as we passed in and the 
presence of someone else in the District Attorney's 
office was noted. 

Carton met us in a little ante-room. He was all 
excitement himself, but I could see that it was a 
clouded triumph. His mind was really elsewhere 
than on the confession that he was getting. Although 


he did not ask us, I knew that he was thinking only 
of Margaret Ashton and how to regain the ground 
that he had apparently lost with her. Still, he said 
nothing about the photographs. I wondered whether 
it was because of his confidence that Kennedy would 
pull him through. 

" You know," he whispered, " I have been work 
ing with my assistants on Dopey Jack ever since the 
conviction, hoping to get a confession from him, 
holding out all sorts of promises if he would turn 
state's evidence and threats if he didn't. It all had 
no effect. But Murtha's death seems to have 
changed all that. I don't know why whether he 
thinks it was due to foul play or not, for he won't 
say anything about that and evidently doesn't know 
but it seems to have changed him." 

Carton said it as though at last a ray of light had 
struck in on an otherwise black situation, and that 
was indeed the case. 

" I suppose," suggested Craig, " that as long as 
Murtha was alive he would rather have died than 
say anything that would incriminate him. That's 
the law of the gang world. But with Murtha no 
longer to be shielded, perhaps he feels released. Be 
sides, it must begin to look to him as though the 
organization had abandoned him and was letting him 
shift pretty much for himself." 

" That's it," agreed Carton. " He has never 
got it out of his head that Kahn swung the case 
against him and I've been careful not to dwell on the 
truth of that Kahn episode." 


Carton led us into his main office, where Rubano 
was seated with two of Carton's assistants who were 
quizzing him industriously and obtaining an amaz 
ing amount of information about gang life and po 
litical corruption. In fact, like most criminals when 
they do confess, Dopey Jack was in danger of con 
fessing too much, in sheer pride at his own prowess 
as a bad man. 

Outside, I knew that it was being well noised 
abroad, in fact I had nodded to an old friend on 
the Star who had whispered to me that the editor 
had already called him up and offered to give Ru 
bano any sum for a series of articles for the Sunday 
supplement on life in the underworld. I knew, then, 
that the organization had heard of it, by this time 
too late. 

Most of the confession was completed by the time 
we arrived, but as it had all been carefully taken 
down we knew we had missed nothing. 

" You see, Mr. Carton," Rubano was saying as 
we three entered and he turned from the assistant 
who was quizzing him, " it's like this. I can't tell 
you all about the System. No one can. You under 
stand that. All any of us know is the men next to 
us above and below. We may have opinions, hear 
gossip, but that's no good as evidence." 

" I understand," reassured Carton. " I don't ex 
pect that. You must tell me the gossip and rumours, 
but all I am bartering a pardon for is what you 
really know, and you've got to make good, or the 
deal is off, see? " 


He said it in a tone that Dopey Jack could under 
stand and the gangster protested. " Well, Mr. Car 
ton, haven't I made good? " 

" You have so far," grudgingly admitted Carton 
who was greedy for everything down to the utter 
most scrap that might lead to other things. " Now, 
who was the man above you, to whom you re 

" Mr. Murtha, of course," replied Jack, surprised 
that anyone should ask so simple a question. 

" That's all right," explained Carton. " I knew 
it, but I wanted you on record as saying it. And 
above Murtha?" 

" Why, you know it is Dorgan," replied Dopey, 
" only, as I say, I can't prove that for you any better 
than you can." 

" He has already told about his associates and 
those he had working under him," explained Car 
ton, turning to us. " Now Langhorne what do you 
know about him? " 

" Know about Langhorne the fellow that was 
that I robbed? " repeated Jack. 

" You robbed? " cut in Kennedy. " So you knew 
about thermit, then? " 

Dopey smiled with a sort of pride in his work, 
much as if he had received a splendid recommenda 

" Yes," he replied. " I knew about it got it 
from a peterman who has studied safes and all that 
sort of thing. I heard he had some secret, so one 
night I takes him up to Farrell's and gets him stewed 


and he tells me. Then when I wants to use it, bingo ! 
there I am with the goods." 

"And the girl Betty Blackwell what did she 
have to do with it? " pursued Craig. " Did you get 
into the office, learn Langhorne's habits, and so on, 
from her? " 

Dopey Jack looked at us in disgust. " Say," he 
replied, " if I wanted a skirt to help me in such a 
job, believe me I know plenty that could put it all 
over that girl. Naw, I did it all myself. I picked 
the lock, burnt the safe with that powder the guy 
give me, and took out something in soft leather, a 
lot of typewriting." 

We were all on our feet in unrestrained excite 
ment. It was the Black Book at last! " 

" Yes," prompted Carton, " and what then 
what did you do with it? " 

" Gave it to Mr. Murtha, of course," came back 
the matter-of-fact answer of the young tough. 

" What did he do with it? " demanded Carton. 

Dopey Jack shook his head dubiously. " It ain't 
no use trying to kid you, Mr. Carton. If I told you 
a fake you'd find it out. I'd tell you what he did, if 
I knew, but I don't on the level. He just took it. 
Maybe he burnt it I don't know. I did my work." 

Unprincipled as the young man was, I could not 
help the feeling that in this case he was telling only 
the truth as he knew it. 

We looked at each other aghast. What if Mur 
tha had got it and had destroyed it before his death? 
That was an end of the dreams we had built on its 


capture. On the other hand, if he had hidden it 
there was small likelihood now of finding it. The 
only chance, as far as I could see, was that he had 
passed it along to someone else. And of that Dopey 
Jack obviously knew nothing. 

Still, his information was quite valuable enough. 
He had given us the first definite information we 
had received of it. 

Carton, his assistants, and Kennedy now vigor 
ously proceeded in a sort of kid glove third degree, 
without getting any further than convincing them 
selves that Rubano genuinely did not know. 

" But the stenographer," reiterated Carton, re 
turning to the line of attack which he had tempo 
rarily abandoned. " Something became of her. She 
disappeared and even her family haven't a trace of 
her, nor any other institutions in the city. We've got 
something on you, there, Rubano." 

Jack laughed. " Mr. Carton," he answered easily, 
" the police put me through the mill on that without 
finding anything, and I don't believe you have any 
thing. But just to show you that I'm on the square 
with you, I don't mind telling you that I got her 

It was dramatic, the off-hand way in which the 
gangster told of this mystery that had perplexed us. 

" Got her away how where? " demanded Car 
ton fiercely. 

" Mr Murtha gave me some money a wad. I 
don't know who gave it to him, but it wasn't his 
money. It was to pay her to stay away till this all 


blew over. Oh, they made it worth her while. So 
I dolled up and saw her and she fell for it a 
pretty good sized wad," he repeated, as though he 
wished some of it had stuck to his own hands. 

We fairly gasped at the ease and simplicity with 
which the fellow bandied facts that had been beyond 
our discovery for days. Here was another link in 
our chain. We could not prove it, but in all proba 
bility it was Dorgan who furnished the money. Even 
if the Black Book were lost, it was possible that in 
the retentive memory of this girl there might be 
much that would take its place. She had seen a 
chance for providing for the future of herself and 
her family. All she had to do was to take it and 
keep quiet. 

' You know where she is, then? " shot out Ken 
nedy suddenly. 

" No not now," returned Dopey. " She was 
told to meet me at the Little Montmartre. She did. 
I don't think she knew what kind of place it was, 
or she wouldn't have come." 

He paused, as though he had something on his 

" Go on," urged Kennedy. " Tell all. You must 
tell all." 

" I was just thinking," he hesitated. " I remem 
ber I saw Ike the Dropper and Marie Margot there 
that day, too, with Martin Ogleby " 

" Martin Ogleby! " interrupted Carton in sur 

" Yes, Martin Ogleby. He hangs about the Mont- 


martre and the Futurist, all those joints. Say I've 
been thinking a heap since this case of mine came up. 
I wonder whether it was all on the level with me. 
I gave the money. But was that a stall? Perhaps 
they tried to get back. Perhaps she played into their 
hands I saw her watching the sports, there, and 
believe me, there are some swell lookers. Oh well, / 
don't know. All I know is my part. I don't know 
anything that happened after that. I can't tell what 
I don't know, can I, Mr. Carton? " 

" Not very well," smiled the prosecutor. " But 
you can tell us anything you suspect." 

" I don't know what I suspect. I was only a part 
of the machine. Only after I read that she disap 
peared, I began to think there might have been some 
funny business I don't know." 

Eager as we were, we could only accept this un 
satisfactory explanation of the whereabouts of Betty. 

" After all, I was only a part," reiterated Jack. 
" You better ask Ike that's all." 

Just then the telephone buzzed. Carton was busy 
and Kennedy, who happened to be nearest, answered 
it. I fancied that there was a puzzled expression on 
his face, as he placed his hand over the transmitter 
and said to Carton, " Here it's for you. Take it. 
By the way, where's that thing I left down here for 
recording voices? " 

" Here in my desk. But you took the cylinder 
with you." 

" Haven't you got another? Don't you ever use 
them for dictating letters? " 


Carton nodded and sent his stenographer to get 
a new one. 

" Just a minute, please," cut in Kennedy. " Mr. 
Carton will be here in a few moments, now." 

Carton took the telephone and placed his hand 
over it, until, with a nod from Kennedy as he affixed 
the machine, he answered. 

" Yes this is the District Attorney," we heard 
him answer. "What? Rubano? Why you can't 
talk to him. He's a convicted man. Here? How 
do you know he's here? No I wouldn't let you 
talk to him if he was. Who are you, anyway? 
What's that you threaten him you threaten me? 
You'll get us both, will you? Well, I want to tell 
you, you can go plumb the deuce ! The fellow's 
cut himself off ! " 

As Carton finished, a peculiar smile played about 
Rubano's features. " I expected that, but not so 
soon," he said quietly. " New York'll be no place 
for me, Mr. Carton, after this. You've got to keep 
your word and smuggle me out. South Africa, you 
know you promised." 

" I'll keep my word, Rubano, too," assured Car 
ton. " The nerve of that fellow. Where's Ken 

We looked about. Craig had slipped out quietly 
during the telephone conversation. Before we could 
start a search for him, he returned. 

" I thought there was something peculiar about 
the voice," he explained. " That was why I wanted 
a record of it. While you were talking I got your 


switchboard operator to connect me with central on 
another wire. The call was from a pay station on 
the west side. There wasn't a chance to get the 
fellow, of course but I have the voice record, any 

Dopey Jack's confession occupied most of the eve 
ning and it was late when we got away. Carton was 
overjoyed at the result of his pressure, and eager to 
know, on the other hand, whether Kennedy had 
made any progress yet with his study of the photo 

I could have told him beforehand, however, that 
Craig would say nothing and he did not. Besides, 
he had the added mystery of the new phonograph 
cylinder to engross him, with the result that we 
parted from Carton, a little piqued at being left out 
of Craig's confidence, but helpless. 

As for me, I knew it was useless to trail after 
Kennedy and when he announced that he was going 
back to the laboratory, I balked and, in spite of my 
interest in the case, went home to our apartment to 
bed, while Kennedy made a night of it. 

What he discovered I knew no better in the morn 
ing than when I left him, except that he seemed 
highly elated. 

Leisurely he dressed, none the worse for his late 
work and after devouring the papers as if there 
were nothing else in the world so important, he 
waited until the middle of the morning before doing 
anything further. 

" I merely wanted to give Dorgan a chance to 


get to his office," he surprised me with, finally. 
" Come, Walter, I think he must be there now." 

Amazed at his temerity in bearding Dorgan in 
his very den, I could do nothing but accompany him, 
though I much feared it was almost like inviting 

The Boss's office was full of politicians, for it was 
now approaching " dough day," when the purse 
strings of the organization were loosed and a flood 
of potent argument poured forth to turn the tide 
of election by the force of the only thing that talks 
loud enough for some men to hear. Somehow, Ken 
nedy managed to see the Boss. 

" Mr. Dorgan," began Kennedy quietly, when we 
were seated alone in the little Sanctum of the Boss, 
" you will pardon me if I seem to be a little slow in 
coming to the business that has brought me here 
this morning. First of all I may say that you prob 
ably share the idea that ever since the days of 
Daguerre photography has been regarded as the one 
infallible means of portraying faithfully any object, 
scene, or action. Indeed, a photograph is admitted 
in court as irrefutable evidence. For, when every 
thing else fails, a picture made through the photo 
graphic lens almost invariably turns the tide. How 
ever, such a picture upon which the fate of an im 
portant case may rest should be subjected to critical 
examination, for it is an established fact that a 
photograph may be made as untruthful as it may be 

He paused. Dorgan was regarding him keenly, 


but saying nothing. Kennedy did not mind, as he 

" Combination photographs change entirely the 
character of the initial negative and have been made 
for the past fifty years. The earliest, simplest, and 
most harmless photographic deception is the print 
ing of clouds in a bare sky. But the retoucher with 
his pencil and etching tool to-day is very skilful. A 
workman of ordinary ability can introduce a person 
taken in a studio into an open-air scene well blended 
and in complete harmony without a visible trace of 

Dorgan was growing interested. 

" I need say nothing of how one head can be put 
on another body in a picture," pursued Craig, " nor 
need I say what a double exposure will do. There 
is almost no limit to the changes that may be wrought 
in form and feature. It is possible to represent a 
person crossing Broadway or walking on Riverside 
Drive, places he may never have visited. Thus a 
person charged with an offence may be able to prove 
an alibi by the aid of a skilfully prepared combina 
tion photograph. 

" Where, then," asked Kennedy, " can photogra 
phy be considered as irrefutable evidence? The 
realism may convince all, except the expert and the 
initiated after careful study. A shrewd judge will 
be careful to insist that in every case the negative 
be submitted and examined for possible alterations 
by a clever manipulator." 

Kennedy bent his gaze on Dorgan. " Now, I 


do not accuse you, sir, of anything. But a photo 
graph has come into my possession in which Mr. 
Carton is represented as standing in a group on a 
porch, with Mr. Murtha, Mrs. Ogleby, and an un 
known woman. The first three are in poses that 
show the utmost friendliness. I do not hesitate to 
say that was originally a photograph of yourself, 
Mr. Murtha, Mrs. Ogleby, and a woman whom you 
know well. It is a pretty raw deal, a fake in which 
Carton has been substituted by very excellent photo 
graphic forgery." 

" A fake huh ! " repeated Dorgan, contemptu 
ously. "How about the story of them? There's 
no negative. You've got to show me that the origi 
nal print stolen from Carton, we'll say, is a fake. 
You can't do it. No, sir, those pictures were taken 
this summer." 

Kennedy quietly laid down the bundle of photo 
graphs copied from those alleged to have been stolen 
from Carton. He was pointing to a shadow of a 
gable on the house. 

'You see that shadow of the gable, Dorgan?" 
he asked. " Perhaps you never heard of it, but it 
is possible to tell the exact time at which a photo 
graph was taken from a study of the shadows. It 
is possible in theory and practice, and it can be 
trusted absolutely. Almost any scientist, Dorgan, 
may be called in to bear testimony in court nowadays, 
but you probably think the astronomer is one of the 
least likely. 

" Well, the shadow in this picture can be made to 


prove an alibi for someone. Notice. It is seen 
prominently to the right, and its exact location on 
the house is an easy matter. The identification of 
the gable casting the shadow ought to be easy. To 
be exact, I have figured it out as 19.62 feet high. 
The shadow is 14.23 feet down, 13.10 feet east, and 
3.43 feet north. You see, I am exact. I have to 
be. In one minute it moves 0.080 feet upward, 0.053 
feet to the right, and 0.096 feet in its apparent path. 
It passes the width of a weatherboard, 0.37 foot, in 
four minutes and thirty-seven seconds." 

Kennedy was talking rapidly of data which he had 
derived from the study of the photograph as from 
plumb line, level, compass, and tape, astronomical 
triangle, vertices, zenith, pole, and sun, declination, 
azimuth, solar time, parallactic angles, refraction, 
and a dozen other bewildering terms. 

" In spherical trigonometry," he concluded, " to 
solve the problem three elements must be known. I 
know four. Therefore, I can take each of the 
known, treat it as unknown, and have four ways to 
check my result. I find that the time might have 
been either three o'clock, twenty-one minutes and 
twelve seconds in the afternoon, or 3:21:31 or 
3:21: 29, or 3:21: 33. The average is 3 : 21 : 26 
and there can be no appreciable error except for a 
few seconds. I tell you that to show you how close I 
can come. The important thing, however, is that 
the date must have been one of two days, either 
May 22 or July 22. Between these two dates we 
must decide on evidence other than the shadow. It 


must have been in May, as the immature condition 
of the foliage shows. But even if it had been in 
July, that would be far from the date you allege. 
Why, I could even tell you the year. Then, too, I 
could look up the weather records and tell something 
from them. I can really answer, with an assurance 
and accuracy superior to the photographer himself, 
if you could produce him and he were honest, as to 
the real date. The original picture, aside from be 
ing doctored, was actually taken last May. Science 
is not fallible, but exact in this matter." 

Kennedy felt that he had scored a palpable hit. 
Dorgan was speechless. Still, Craig hurried on. 

" But, you may ask, how about the automobile pic 
ture? That also is an unblushing fake. Of course 
I must prove that. In the first place you know that 
the general public has come to recognize the distor 
tion of a photograph as denoting speed. A picture 
of a car in a race that doesn't lean is rejected. Peo 
ple demand to see speed, speed, more speed, even in 
pictures. Distortion does indeed show speed, but 
that, too, can be faked. 

" Almost everyone knows that the image is pro 
jected upside down by the lens on the plate, and that 
the bottom of the picture is taken before the top. 
The camera mechanism admits light, which makes 
the picture, in the manner of a roller blind curtain. 
The slit travels from the top to the bottom and, the 
image on the plate being projected upside down, the 
bottom of the object appears on the top of the plate. 
For instance, the wheels are taken before the head 


of the driver. If the car is moving quickly, the 
image moves on the plate and each successive part is 
taken a little in advance of the last. The whole 
leans forward. By widening the slit and slowing the 
speed of the shutter, there is more distortion. 

" Now, that is just what has been done. 
A picture has been taken of a car owned 
once by Murtha, probably at rest, with per 
haps yourself, Murtha, Mrs. Ogleby, and 
your friend in it. The matter of faking Carton 
or anyone else is simple. If, with an enlarging lan 
tern, the image of this faked picture is thrown on 
the printing paper like a lantern slide, and if the 
right-hand side is moved a little further away than 
the left, the top further away than the bottom, you 
can in that way print a fraudulent high-speed picture 

' True, everything else in the picture, even if mo 
tionless, is distorted, and the difference between this 
faking and the distortion of the shutter can be seen 
by an expert. But it will pass with most people. 
In this case, however," added Kennedy suddenly, 
" the faker was so sure of it that he was careless. 
Instead of getting the plate further from the paper 
on the right, he did so on the left. It was further 
away on the bottom than on the top. He got the 
distortion, all right, enough to satisfy anyone. But 
it is distortion in the wrong direction ! The top of 
the wheel, which goes fastest and ought to be most 
indistinct, is, in the fake, as sharp as any other part. 
It is a small mistake that was made, but fatal. Your 


picture is not of a joy ride at all. It is really high 
speed backwards! It is too raw, too raw." 

' You don't think people are going to swallow all 
that stuff, do you?" asked Dorgan coolly, in spite 
of the exposures. "What of it all?" he asked 
surlily. " I have nothing to do with it, anyhow. Why 
do you come to me ? Take it to the proper authori 

" Shall I ? " asked Kennedy quietly, leaning over 
and whispering a few words in Dorgan's ear. I 
could not hear what he said, but Dorgan appeared 
to be fairly staggered. 

When Kennedy passed out of the Boss's office 
there was a look of quiet satisfaction on his face 
which I could not fathom. Not a word could I ex 
tract from him on the subject, either. I was still 
in the dark as to the result of his visit. 


SUNDAY morning came and with it the huge 
batch of papers which we always took. I looked 
at them eagerly, though Kennedy did not seem to 
evince much interest, to see whether the Carton pho 
tographs had been used. There were none. 

Kennedy employed the time in directing some work 
of his own and had disappeared, I knew not where, 
though I surmised it was on one of his periodic ex 
cursions into the underworld in which he often 
knocked about, collecting all sorts of valuable and 
interesting bits of information to fit together in the 
mosaic of a case. 

Monday came, also, the last day before the elec 
tion, with its lull in the heart-breaking activities of 
the campaign. There were still no pictures pub 
lished, but Kennedy was working in the laboratory 
over a peculiar piece of apparatus. 

" I've been helping out my own shadows," was 
all the explanation he vouchsafed of his disappear 
ances, as he continued to work. 

" Watching Mrs. Ogleby? " I hinted. 

" No, I didn't interfere any more with Miss Ken 
dall. This was someone else in another part of 
the city." 



He said it with an air that seemed to imply that 
I would learn all about it shortly and I did not pur 
sue the subject. 

Meanwhile, he was arranging something on the 
top of a large, flat table. It seemed to be an instru 
ment in two parts, composed of many levers and 
discs and magnets, each part with a roll of paper 
about five inches wide. 

On one was a sort of stylus with two silk cords 
attached at right angles to each other near the point. 
On the other was a capillary glass tube at the junc 
tion of two aluminum arms, also at right angles to 
each other. 

It was quite like old times to see Kennedy at work 
in his laboratory again, and I watched him curiously. 
Two sets of wires were attached to each of the in 
struments, and they lead out of the window to some 
other wires which had been strung by telephone line 
men only a few hours before. 

Craig had scarcely completed his preparations 
when Carton arrived. Things were going all right 
in the campaign again, I knew, at least as far as ap 
peared on the surface. But his face showed that 
Carton was clearly dissatisfied with what Craig had 
apparently accomplished, for, as yet, he had not told 
Carton about his discovery after studying the pho 
tographs, and matters between Carton and Mar 
garet Ashton stood in the same strained condition 
that they had when last we saw her. 

I must say that I, too, was keenly disappointed 
by the lack of developments in this phase of the case. 


Aside from the fact that the photographs had not 
actually been published, the whole thing seemed to 
me to be a mess. What had Craig said to Dorgan? 
Above all, what was his game ? Was he playing to 
spare the girl's feelings merely by allowing the elec 
tion to go on without a scandal to Carton? I knew 
the result of the election was now the least of Car 
ton's worries. 

Carton did not say much, but he showed that he 
thought it high time for Kennedy to do something. 

We were seated about the flat table, wondering 
when Kennedy would break his silence, when sud 
denly, as if by a spirit hand, the stylus before us 
began to move across one of the rolls of paper. 

We watched it uncomprehendingly. 

At last I saw that it was actually writing the 
words. " How is it working? " 

Quickly Craig seized the stylus on the lower part 
of the instrument and wrote in his characteristic 
scrawl, " All right, go ahead." 

"What is the thing?" asked Carton, momen 
tarily forgetting his own worries at the new marvel 
before us. 

" An instrument that was invented many years 
ago, but has only recently been perfected for prac 
tical, every-day use, the telautograph, the long-dis 
tance writer," replied Kennedy, as we waited. " You 
see, with what amounts to an ordinary pencil I have 
written on the paper of the transmitter. The silk 
cord attached to the pencil regulates the current 
which controls another capillary glass tube-pen at the 


other end of the line. The receiving pen moves 
simultaneously with my stylus. It is the same prin 
ciple as the pantagraph, cut in half as it were, one 
half here, the other half at the other end of the line, 
two elephone wires in this case connecting the halves. 
Ah, that's it. The pencil of the receiving instru 
ment is writing again. Just a moment. Let us see 
what it is." 

I almost gasped in astonishment at the words that 
I saw. I looked again, for I could not believe my 
eyes. Still, there it was. My first glance had been 
correct, impossible as it was. 

" I, Patrick Murtha," wrote the pen. 

"What is it?" asked Carton, awestruck. "A 
dead hand?" 

" Stop a minute," wrote Kennedy hastily. 

We bent over him closely. Craig had drawn from 
a packet several letters, which he had evidently se 
cured in some way from the effects of Murtha. Care 
fully, minutely, he compared the words before us 
with the signatures at the bottom of the letters. 

" It is genuine ! " he cried excitedly. 

" Genuine ! " Carton and I echoed. 

What did he mean ? Was this some kind of spirit 
ism? Had Kennedy turned medium and sought a 
message from the other world to solve the inex 
plicable problems of this? It was weird, uncanny, 
unthinkable. We turned to him blankly for an ex 
planation of the mystery. 

; ' That wasn't Murtha at all whose body we saw 
at the Morgue," he hurried to explain. " That was 


all a frame-up. I thought as soon as I saw it that 
there was something queer." 

I recalled now the peculiar look on his face which 
I had interpreted as indicating that he thought Mur- 
tha had been the victim of foul play. 

" And the other night, when we were in Carton's 
office and someone called up threatening you, Car 
ton, and Dopey Jack, I saw at once that the voice 
was concealed. Yet there was something about it 
that was familiar, though I couldn't quite place it. 
I had heard that voice before, perhaps while we 
were getting the records to discover the ' wolf.' 
It occurred to me that if I had a record of it I 
might identify it by comparing it with those we had 
already taken. I got the record. I studied it. I 
compared it with what I already had, line, and wave, 
and overtone. You can imagine how I felt when I 
found there was only one voice with which it cor 
responded, and that man was supposed to be 
dead. Something more than intuition as I looked 
at the body that night had roused my suspicions. 
Now they were confirmed. Fancy how that infor 
mation must have burned in my mind, during these 
days while I knew that Murtha was alive, but could 
say nothing! " 

Neither Carton nor I could say a word as we 
thought of this voice from the dead, as it almost 

" I hadn't found him," continued Craig, " but I 
knew he had used a pay station on the West Side. 
I began shadowing everyone who might have helped 


him, Dorgan, Kahn, Langhorne, all. I didn't find 
him. They were too clever. He was hiding some 
where in the city, a changed personality, waiting for 
the thing to blow over. He knew that of all places 
a city is the best to hide in, and of all cities New 
York is safest. 

" But, though I didn't actually find his hiding 
place, I had enough on some of his friends so that 
I could get word to him that his secret was known 
to me, at least. I made him an offer of safety. He 
need not come out of his hiding place and I would 
agree to let him go where and when he pleased 
without further pursuit from me, if he would let 
me install a telautograph in a neutral place which 
he could select and the other end in this laboratory. 
I myself do not know where the other place is. Only 
a mechanic sworn to secrecy knows and neither Mur- 
tha nor myself know him. If Murtha comes across, 
I have given my word of honour that before the 
world he shall remain a dead man, free to go where 
he pleases and enjoy such of his fortune as he was 
able to fix so that he could carry it with him into his 
new life." 

Carton and I were entranced by the romance 'of 
the thing. 

Murtha was alive ! 

The commitment to the asylum, the escape, the 
search, the finding of a substitute body, mutilated be 
yond ordinary recognition, the mysterious transfers, 
and finally the identification in the Morgue all had 
been part of an elaborately staged play! 


We saw it all, now. Carton had got too close to 
him in the conviction of Dopey Jack and the pro 
ceedings against Kahn. He had seen the handwrit 
ing on the wall for himself. In Carton's gradual 
climbing, step by step, for the man higher up, he 
would have been the next to go. 

Murtha had decided that it was time to get out, 
to save himself. 

Suddenly, I saw another aspect of it. By drop 
ping out as though dead, he destroyed a link in the 
chain that would reach Dorgan. There was no way 
of repairing that link if he were dead. It was miss 
ing and missing for good. 

Dorgan had known it. Had it been a hint as to 
that which had finally clinched whatever it was that 
Kennedy had whispered to the Silent Boss that morn 
ing when we had seen him in his office? 

All these thoughts and more flashed through my 
head with lightning-like rapidity. 

The telautograph was writing again, obedient to 
Kennedy's signal that he was satisfied with the sig 

" . . . .in consideration of Craig Kennedy's 
agreement to destroy even this record, agree to give 
him such information as he has asked for, after 
which no further demands are to be made and the 
facts as already publicly recorded are to stand." 

" Just witness it," asked Kennedy of us. " It is 
a gentleman's agreement among us all." 

Nervously we set our names to the thing, only 
too eager to keep the secret if we could further the 


case on which we had been almost literally sweating 
blood so long. 

Prepared though we were for some startling dis 
closures, it was, nevertheless, with a feeling almost 
of faintness that we saw the stylus above moving 

" The Black Book, as you call it," it wrote, " has 
been sent by messenger to be deposited in escrow 
with the Gotham Trust Company to be delivered, 
Tuesday, the third of November, on the written 
order of Craig Kennedy and John Carton. An offi 
cer of the trust company will notify you of its 
receipt immediately, which will close the entire trans 
action as far as I am concerned." 

Kennedy could not wait. He had already seized 
his own telephone and was calling a number. 

' They have it," he announced a moment later, 
scrawling the information on the transmitter of the 

A moment it was still, then it wrote again. 

" Good-bye and good luck," it traced. " Mur- 

The Smiling Boss could not resist his little joke 
at the end, even now. 

u Can we get it?" asked Carton, almost 
stunned at the unexpected turn of events. 

" No," cautioned Kennedy, " not yet. To-mor 
row. I made the same promise to Murtha that I 
made to Dorgan, when I went to him with Walter, 
although Walter did not hear it. This is to be a 
fair fight, for the election, now." 


" Then," said Carton earnestly, " I may as well 
tell you that I shall not sleep to-night. I can't, even 
if I can use the book only after election in the clean 
up of the city! " 

Kennedy laughed. 

" Perhaps I can entertain you with some other 
things," he said gleefully, adding, " About those 

Carton was as good as his word. He did not 
sleep, and the greater part of the night we spent in 
telling him about what Craig had discovered by his 
scientific analysis of the faked pictures. 

At last morning came. Though Kennedy and I 
had slept soundly in our apartment, Carton had in 
reality only dozed in a chair, after we closed the 

Slowly the hours slipped away until the trust 
company opened. 

We were the first to be admitted, with our order 
ready signed and personally delivered. 

As the officer handed over the package, Craig tore 
the wrapper off eagerly. 

There, at last, was the Black Book! 

Carton almost seized it from Kennedy, turning 
the pages, skimming over it, gloating like a verita 
ble miser. 

It was the debacle of Dorgan the end of the 
man highest up I 



MUCH as we had accomplished, we had not 
found Betty Blackwell. Except for her 
shadowing of Mrs. Ogleby, Clare Kendall had de 
voted her time to winning the confidence of the poor 
girl, Sybil Seymour, whom we had rescued from 
Margot's. Meanwhile, the estrangement of Car 
ton and Margaret Ashton threw a cloud over even 
our success. 

During the rest of the morning Craig was at work 
again in the laboratory. He was busily engaged in 
testing something through his powerful microscopes 
and had a large number of curious microphotographs 
spread out on the table. As I watched him, appar 
ently there was nothing but the blood-stained gauze 
bandage which had been fastened to the face of the 
strange, light-haired woman, and on the stains on 
this bandage he was concentrating his attention. I 
could not imagine what he expected to discover 
from it. 

I waited for Kennedy to speak, but he was too 
busy more than to notice that I had come in. I fell 
to thinking of that woman. And the more I thought 
of the fair face, the more I was puzzled by it. I 



felt somehow or other that I had seen it somewhere 
before, yet could not place it. 

A second time I examined the unpublished photo 
graph of Betty Blackwell as well as the pictures that 
had been published. The only conclusion that I 
could come to was that it could not be she, for al 
though she was light-haired and of fair complexion, 
the face as I remembered it was that of a mature 
woman who was much larger than the slight Betty. 
I was sure of that. 

Every time I reasoned it out I came to the same 
contradictory conclusion that I had seen her, and 
I hadn't. I gave it up, and as Kennedy seemed 
indisposed to enlighten me, I went for a stroll about 
the campus, returning as if drawn back to him by 
a lodestone. 

About him was still the litter of test tubes, the 
photographs, the microscopes; and he was more 
absorbed in his delicate work than ever. 

He looked up from his examination of a little 
glass slide and I could see by the crow's feet in the 
corners of his eyes that he was not looking so much 
at me as through me at a very puzzling problem. 

" Walter," he remarked at length, " did you no 
tice anything in particular about that blonde woman 
who dashed down the steps into the taxicab and es 
caped from the dope joint?" 

" I should say that I did," I returned, glad to ease 
my mind of what had been perplexing me ever since. 
" I don't want to appear to be foolish, but, frankly, 
I thought I had seen her before, and then when I 


tried to place her I found that I could not recognize 
her at all. She seemed to be familiar, and yet when 
I tried to place her I could think of no one with 
just those features. It was a foolish impression, I 

" That's exactly it," he exclaimed. " I thought 
at first it was just a foolish impression, too, an in 
tuition which my later judgment rejected. But often 
those first impressions put you on the track of the 
truth. I reconsidered. You remember she had 
dropped that bandage from her face with the blood 
stain on it. I picked it up and it occurred to me to 
try a little experiment with these blood-stains which 
might show something." 

He paused a moment and fingered some of the 

" What would you say," he went on, " if I should 
tell you that a pronounced blonde, with a fair com 
plexion and thin, almost hooked, nose, was in reality 
a negress? " 

"If it were anyone but you, Craig," I replied 
frankly, " I'd be tempted to call him something. 
But you well, what's the answer? How do you 

" I wonder if you have ever heard of the Reichert 
blood test? Well, the Carnegie Instituion has re 
cently published an account of it. Professor Edward 
Reichert of the University of Pennsylvania has dis 
covered that the blood crystals of all animals and 
men show characteristic differences. 

" It has even been suggested that before the 


studies are over photographs of blood corpuscles 
may be used to identify criminals, almost like finger 
prints. There is much that can be discovered al 
ready by the use of these hemoglobin clues. That 
hemoglobin, or red colouring matter of the blood, 
forms crystals has been known for a long time. 
These crystals vary in different animals, as they are 
studied under the polarizing microscope, both in 
form and molecular structure. That is of immense 
importance for the scientific criminologist. 

" A man's blood is not like the blood of any other 
living creature, either fish, flesh, or fowl. Further, 
it is said that the blood of a woman or a man and of 
different individuals shows differences that will re 
veal themselves under certain tests. You can take 
blood from any number of animals and the scientists 
to-day can tell that it is not human blood, but the 
blood, say, of an animal. 

" The scientists now can go further. They even 
hope soon to be able to tell the difference between 
individuals so closely that they can trace parentage 
by these tests. Already they can actually distinguish 
among the races of men, whether a certain sample 
of blood, by its crystals, is from a Chinaman, a Cau 
casian, or a negro. Each gives its own character 
istic crystal. The Caucasian shows that he is more 
closely related to one group of primates; the negro 
to another. It is scientific proof of evolution. 

" It is all the more wonderful, Walter, when you 
consider that these crystals are only i-225oth of an 
inch in length and i-goooth of an inch in width." 


" How do you study them? " I asked. 

" The method I employed was to take a little 
of the blood and add some oxalate of ammonium to 
it, then shake it up thoroughly with ether to free 
the hemoglobin from the corpuscles. I then sepa 
rated the ether carefully from the rest of the blood 
mixture and put a few drops of it on a slide, covered 
them with a cover slip and sealed the edges with 
balsam. Gradually the crystals appear and they can 
be studied and photographed in the usual way not 
only the shapes of the crystals, but also the relation 
that their angles bear to each other. So it is im 
possible to mistake the blood of one animal for an 
other or of one race, like the white race, for that 
of another, like the black. In fact the physical char 
acteristics by which some physicians profess to de 
tect the presence of negro blood are held by other 
authorities to be valueless. But not so with this 

" And you have discovered in this case? " I asked. 

" That the blood on the bandage from the face 
of that woman who escaped was not the blood of a 
pure Caucasian. She shows traces of negro blood, 
in fact exactly what would have been expected of a 

It dawned on me that the woman must have been 
Marie, after all; at least that that was what he 

" But," I objected, " one look at her face was 
enough to show that she was not the dark-skinned 
Marie with her straight nose, her dark hair and 


other features. This woman was fair, had a nose 
that was almost hooked and hair that was almost 
flaxen. Remember the portrait parle." 

" Just so the portrait parle. That is what I am 
remembering. You recall Carton discovered that 
in some way these people found out that we were 
using it? What would they do? Why, they have 
thought out the only possible way in which to beat 
it, don't you see? 

" Marie, Madame Margot, whatever you call her, 
had a beauty parlour. Oh, they are clever, these 
people. They reasoned it all out. What was a 
beauty parlour, a cosmetic surgery, for, if it could 
not be used to save them? They knew we had her 
scientific description. What was the thing to do, 
then? Why, change it, of course, change her!" 

Kennedy was quite excited now. 

" You know what Miss Kendall said of decora 
tive surgery, there ? They change noses, ears, fore 
heads, chins, even eyes. They put the thing up to 
Dr. Harris with his knives and bandages and lotions. 
He must work quickly. It would take all his time. 
So he disappeared into Margot's and stayed 
there. Marie also stayed there until such time as 
she might be able to walk out, another person en 
tirely. Harris must have had charge of her featur&ft 
The attendants in Margot's had charge of her com 
plexion and hair those were the things in which 
they specialized. 

"Don't you see it all now? She could retire a 
few days into the dope joint next door and she would 


emerge literally a new woman ready to face us, even 
with Bertillon's portrait parle against her." 

It was amazing how quickly Kennedy pieced the 
facts together into an explanation. 

" Yes," he concluded triumphantly, " that blonde 
woman was our dark-skinned mulatto made over 
Marie. But they can't escape the power of science, 
even by using science themselves. She might change 
her identity to our eyes, but she could not before the 
Reichert test and the microscope. No, the Ethio 
pian could not change her skin before the eye of 

It was late in the afternoon that Kennedy re 
ceived a hurried telephone call from Miss Kendall. 
I could tell by the scraps of conversation which I 
overheard that it was most important. 

' That girl, Sybil Seymour, has broken down," 
was all he said as he turned from the instrument. 
" She will he here to-day with Miss Kendall. You 
must see Carton immediately. Tell him not to fail 
to be here, at the laboratory, this afternoon at three, 

He was gone before I could question him further 
and there was nothing for me to do but to execute 
the commission he had laid on me. 

I met Carton at his club, relating to him all that 
I could about the progress of the case. He seemed 
interested but I could see that his mind was really 
not on it. The estrangement between him and Mar 
garet Ashton outweighed success in this case and 
even in the election. 


Half an hour before the appointed time, how 
ever, we arrived at the laboratory in Carton's car, 
to find Kennedy already there, putting the finishing 
touches on the preparations he was making to receive 
his " guests." 

" Dorgan will be here," he answered, evading 
Carton's question as to what he had discovered. 

" Dorgan? " we repeated in surprise. 

" Yes. I have made arrangements to have Mar 
tin Ogleby, too. They won't dare stay away. Ike 
the Dropper, Dr. Harris, and Marie Margot have 
not been found yet, but Miss Kendall will bring 
Sybil Seymour. Then we shall see." 

The door opened. It was Ogleby. He bowed 
stiffly, but before he could say anything, a noise out 
side heralded the arrival of someone else. 

It proved to be Dorgan, who had come from an 
opposite direction. Dorgan seemed to treat the 
whole affair with contempt, which he took pleasure 
in showing. He was cool and calm, master of him 
self, in any situation no matter how hostile. 

As we waited, the strained silence, broken only by 
an occasional whisper between Carton and Ken 
nedy, was relieved even by the arrival of Miss Ken 
dall and Sybil Seymour in a cab. As they entered I 
fancied that a friendship had sprung up between the 
two, that Miss Kendall had won her fight for the 
girl. Indeed, I suspect that it was the first time in 
years that the girl had had a really disinterested 
friend of either sex. 

I thought Ogleby visibly winced as he caught sight 


of Miss Seymour. He evidently had not expected 
her, and I thought that perhaps he had no relish 
for the recollection of the Montmartre which her 
presence suggested. 

Miss Seymour, now like herself as she had ap 
peared first behind the desk at the hotel, only sub 
dued and serious, seemed ill at ease. Dorgan, on 
the other hand, bowed to her brazenly and mock 
ingly. He was evidently preparing against any sur 
prises which Craig might have in store, and 
maintained his usual surly silence. 

" Perhaps," hemmed Ogleby, clearing his throat 
and looking at his watch ostentatiously, " Professor 
Kennedy can inform us regarding the purpose of 
this extra-legal proceeding? Some of us, I know, 
have other engagements. I would suggest that you 
begin, Professor." 

He placed a sarcastic emphasis on the word " pro 
fessor," as the two men faced each other Craig tall, 
clean-cut, earnest; Ogleby polished, smooth, keen. 

" Very well," replied Craig with that steel-trap 
snap of his jaws which I knew boded ill for some 

" It is not necessary for me to repeat what has 
happened at the Montmartre and the beauty parlour 
adjoining it," began Kennedy deliberately. " One 
thing, however, I want to say. Twice, now, I have 
seen Dr. Harris handing out packets of drugs 
once to Ike the Dropper, agent for the police and 
a corrupt politician, and once to a mulatto woman, 
almost white, who conducted the beauty parlour and 


dope joint which I have mentioned, a friend and as 
sociate of Ike the Dropper, a constant go-between 
from Ike to the corrupt person higher up. 

" This woman, whom I have just mentioned, we 
have been seeking by use of Bertillon's new system 
of the portrait parle. She has escaped, for the time, 
by a very clever ruse, by changing her very face in 
the beauty parlour. She is Madame Margot her 
self! " 

Not a word was breathed by any of the little 
audience as they hung on Kennedy's words. 

" Why was it necessary to get Betty Blackwell out 
of the way? " he asked suddenly, then without wait 
ing for an answer, " You know and District Attor 
ney Carton knows. Someone was afraid of Carton 
and his crusade. Someone wanted to destroy the 
value of that Black Book, which I now have. The 
only safety lay in removing the person whose evi 
dence would be required in court to establish it 
Betty Blackwell. And the manner? What more 
natural than to use the dope fiends and the degen 
erates of the Montmartre gang? " 

" That's silly," interrupted Ogleby contemptu 

" Silly? You can say that you, the tool of that 
that monster? " 

It was a woman's voice that interrupted. I turned. 
Sybil Seymour, her face blazing with resentment, had 
risen and was facing Ogleby squarely. 

" You lie ! " exclaimed the Silent Boss, forgetting 
both his silence and his superciliousness. 


The situation was tense as the girl faced him. 

" Go on, Sybil," urged Clare. 

" Be careful, woman," cried Dorgan roughly. 

Sybil Seymour turned quickly to her new assailant. 
" You are the man for whom we were all coined into 
dollars," she scorned, " Dorgan politician, man 
higher up! You reaped the profits through your 
dirty agent, Ike the Dropper, and those over him, 
even the police you controlled. Dr. Harris, Marie 
Margot, all are your tools and the worst of them 
all is this man Martin Ogleby! " 

Dorgan's face was livid. For once in his life 
he was speechless rather than silent, as the girl 
poured out the inside gossip of the Montmartre 
which Kennedy had now stamped with the earmarks 
of legal proof. 

She had turned from Dorgan, as if from an un 
clean animal and was now facing Ogleby. 

" As for you, Martin Ogleby, they call you a 
club-man and society leader. Do you want to know 
what club I think you really belong to you who 
have involved one girl after another in the meshes 
of this devilish System? You belong to the Abduc 
tion Club that is what I would call it you you 
libertine ! " 


CARTON had sprung to his feet at the direct 
charge and was facing Ogleby. 

" Is that true about the Montmartre ? " he de 

Ogleby fairly sputtered. " She lies," he almost 

" Just a moment," interrupted Dorgan. " What 
has that to do with Miss Blackwell, anyhow? " 

Sybil Seymour did not pause. 

" It is true," she reiterated. " This is what it 
has to do with Betty Blackwell. Listen. He is the 
man who led me on, who would have done the same 
to Betty Blackwell. I yielded, but she fought. They 
could not conquer her neither by drugs nor drink, 
nor by clothes, nor a good time, nor force. I saw 
it all in the Montmartre and the beauty parlour 

" Lies all lies," hissed Ogleby, beside himself 
with anger. 

" No, no," cried Sybil. " I do not lie. Mr. Car 
ton and this good woman, Miss Kendall, who is 
working for him, are the first people I have seen 
since you, Martin Ogleby, brought me to the Mont 
martre, who have ever given me a chance to be- 



come again what I was before you and your friends 
got me." 

" Have a care, young woman," interrupted Dor- 
gan, recovering himself as she proceeded. ' There 
are laws and " 

" I don't care a rap about laws such as yours. 
As for gangs that was what you were going to 
say I'd snap my fingers in the face of Ike the 
Dropper himself if he were here. You could kill 
me, but I would tell the truth. 

" Let me tell you my case," she continued, turn 
ing in appeal to the rest of us, " the case of a poor 
girl in a small city near New York, who liked a 
good time, liked pretty clothes, a ride in an automo 
bile, theatres, excitement, bright lights, night life. 
I liked them. He knew that. He led me on, made 
me like him. And when I began to show the strain 
of the pace we all show it more than the men 
he cast me aside, like a squeezed-out lemon." 

Sybil Seymour was talking rapidly, but she was 
not hysterical. 

" Already you know Betty Blackwell's story 
part of it," she hurried on. " Miss Kendall has told 
me how she was bribed to disappear. But beyond 
that what?" 

For a moment she paused. No one said a word. 
Here at last was the one person who held the key 
to the mystery. 

" She did disappear. She kept her word. At 
last she had money, the one thing she had longed 
for. At last she was able to gratify those desires 


to play the fashionable lady which her family had 
always felt. What more natural, then, than while 
she must keep in hiding to make one visit to the 
beauty parlour to which so many society women 
went Margot's? It was there that she went on 
the day that she disappeared." 

We were hanging breathlessly now on the words 
of the girl as she untangled the sordid story. 

"And then?" prompted Kennedy. 

" Then came into play another arm of the Sys 
tem," she replied. " They tried to make sure that 
she would disappear. They tried the same arts on 
her that they had on me this man and the gang 
about him. He played on her love of beauty and 
Madame Margot helped him. He used the Mont- 
martre and the Futurist to fascinate her, but still 
she was not his. She let herself drift along, perhaps 
because she knew that her family was every bit the 
equal socially of his own. Madame Margot tried 
drugs; first the doped cigarette, then drugs that had 
to be forced on her. She kept her in that joint for 
days by force; and there where I went for relief day 
after day from my own bitter thoughts I saw her, 
in that hell which Miss Kendall now by her evidence 
will close forever. Still she would not yield. 

" I saw it all. Maybe you will say I was jealous 
because I had lost him. I was not. I hated him. 
You do not know how close hate can be to love in 
the heart of a woman. I could not help it. I had 
to write a letter that might save her. 

" Miss Kendall has told me about the typewritten 


letters; how you, Professor Kennedy, traced them 
to the Montmartre. I wrote them, I admit, for 
these people. I wrote that stuff about drugs for 
Dr. Harris. And I wrote the first letter of all to 
the District Attorney. I wrote it for myself and 
signed it as I am God forgive me ' An Out 
cast.' " 

The poor girl, overwrought by the strain of the 
confession that laid bare her very soul, sank back 
in her chair and cried, as Miss Kendall gently tried 
to soothe her. 

Dorgan and Ogleby listened sullenly. Never in 
their lives had they dreamed of such a situation as 

There was no air of triumph about Kennedy now 
over the confession, which with the aid of Miss Ken 
dall, he had staged so effectively. Rather it was a 
spirit of earnestness, of retribution, justice. 

' You know all this? " he inquired gently of the 

" I saw it," she said simply, raising her bowed 

Dorgan had been doing some quick thinking. He 
leaned over and whispered quickly to Ogleby. 

" Why was she not discovered then when these 
detectives broke into the private house an act which 
they themselves will have to answer for when the 
time comes ? " demanded Ogleby. 

It seemed as if the mere sound of his voice roused 
the girl. 

" Because it was dangerous to keep her there any 


longer," she replied. " I heard the talk about the 
hotel, the rumour that someone was using this new 
French detective scheme. I heard them blame the 
District Attorney who was clever enough to have 
others working on the case whom you did not know. 
While you were watching his officers, Mr. Kennedy 
and Miss Kendall were gathering evidence almost 
under your very eyes. 

" But you were panic-stricken. You and your 
agents wanted to remove the danger of discovery. 
Dr. Harris and Marie Margot had a plan which 
you grasped at eagerly. There was Ike the Drop 
per, that scoundrel who lives on women. Between 
them you would spirit her away. You were glad to 
have them do it, little realizing that, with every step, 
they had you involved deeper and worse. You for 
got everything, all honour and manhood in your 
panic; you were ready to consent, to urge any course 
that would relieve you and you have taken the 
course that involves you worse than any other." 

" Who will believe a story like that? " demanded 
Ogleby. " What are you according to your own 
confession? Am I to be charged with everything 
this gang, as you call it, does? You are their agent, 
perhaps working for this blackmailing crew. But 
I tell you, I will fight, I will not be blackened 
by -" 

Sybil laughed, half hysterically. 

" Blackened? " she repeated. " You who would 
put this thing all off on others who worked for you, 
who played on your vices and passions, not because 


you were weak, but because you thought you were 
above the law ! 

" You did not care what became of that girl, so 
long as she was where she could not accuse you. 
You left her to that gang, to Ike, to Marie, to 
Harris." She paused a moment, and flashed a quick 
glance of scorn at him. " Do you want to know 
what has become of her, what you are responsible 

" I will tell you. They had other ideas than just 
getting her out of the way of your selfish career. 
They are in this life for money. Betty Blackwell 
to them was a marketable article, a piece of mer 
chandise in the terrible traffic which they carry on. 
If she had been yielding, like the rest of us, she 
might now be apparently free, yet held by a bondage 
as powerful and unescapable as if it were of iron, 
a life from which she could not escape. But she 
was not yielding. They would break her. Perhaps 
you have tried to ease your conscience, if you have 
any, by the thought that it is they, not you, who 
have her hidden away somewhere now. You can 
not escape that way; it was you who made her, who 
made others of us, what we are." 

" Let her rave, Ogleby," sneered Dorgan. 

" Yes raving, that's it," echoed Ogleby. But 
his expression belied him. 

" There it is," she continued. " You have not 
even an opinion of your own. You repeat even the 
remarks of others. They have you in their power. 
You have put yourself there." 


" All very pretty," remarked Dorgan with biting 
sarcasm. " All very cleverly thought out. So nice 
here ! Wait until you have to tell that story in court. 
You know the first rule of equity? Do you go into 
court with clean hands? There is a day of reckon 
ing coming to you, young woman, and to these other 
meddlers here whether they are playing politics or 
meddling just because they are old-maidish busy- 

She was facing the politician with burning cheeks. 

" You," she scorned, " belong to an age that is 
passing away. You cannot understand these people 
like Miss Kendall, like Mr. Carton, who cannot be 
bought and controlled like your other creatures. 
You do not know how the underworld can turn on 
the upperworld. You would not pull us up you 
shoved us down deeper, in your greed. But if we 
go down, we shall drag you, too. What have we to 
lose? You and your creatures, like Martin Ogleby, 
have taken everything from us. We " 

" Come, Ogleby," interposed Dorgan, deliber 
ately turning his back on her and slowly placing his 
hat on his half-bald head. " We are indebted to 
Professor Kennedy for a pleasant entertainment. 
When he has another show equally original we trust 
he will not forget the first-nighters who have en 
joyed this farce." 

Dorgan had reached the door and had his hand 
on the knob.* I had expected Kennedy to reply. But 
he said nothing. Instead his hand stole along the 
edge of the table beside which he was standing. 


" Good-night," bowed Dorgan with mock sol 
emnity. " Thank you for laying the cards on the 
table. We shall know how to play " 

Dorgan cut the words short. 

Kennedy had touched the button of an electric 
attachment which was under the table by which he 
could lock every door and window of the laboratory 
instantly and silently. 

"Well?" demanded Dorgan fiercely, though 
there was a tremble in his voice that had never been 
heard before. 

"Where is Betty Blackwell?" demanded Craig, 
turning to Sybil Seymour. " Where did they take 

We hung breathlessly on the answer. Was she 
being held as a white slave in some obscure den? 
I knew that that did not mean that she was neces 
sarily imprisoned behind locked doors and barred 
windows, although even that might be the case. I 
knew that the restraint might be just as effective, 
even though it was not actually or wholly physical. 

An ordinary girl, I reasoned, with little knowl 
edge of her rights or of the powers which she might 
call to her aid if she knew how to summon them, 
might she not be so hemmed in by the forces into 
whose hands she had fallen as to be practically held 
in bonds which she could not break? 

Here was Sybil herself! Once she had been like 
Betty Blackwell. Indeed, when she seemed to have 
every chance to escape she did not. She knew how 
she could be pursued, hounded at every turn, forced 


back, and her only course was to sink deeper into 
the life. The thought of what might be accom 
plished by drugs startled me. 

Clare bent over the poor girl reassuringly. What 
was it that seemed to freeze her tongue now? Was 
it still some vestige of the old fear under which she 
had been held so long? Clare strove, although we 
could not hear what she was saying, to calm her. 

At last Sybil raised her head, with a wild cry, as 
if she were sealing her own doom. 

" It was Ike. He kept us all in terror. Oh, if 
he hears he will kill me," she blurted out. 

" Where did he take her? " asked Clare. 

She had broken down the girl's last fear. 

" To that place on the West Side that black and 
tan joint, where Marie Margot came from before 
the gang took her in." 

" Carton," called Kennedy. " You and Walter 
will take Miss Kendall and Miss Seymour. Let me 
see. Dorgan, Ogleby, and myself will ride in the 

Carton was toying ostentatiously with a police 
whistle as Dorgan hesitated, then entered the cab. 

I think at the joint, as we pulled up with a rush 
after our wild ride downtown, they must have 
thought that a party of revellers had dropped in to 
see the sights. It was perhaps just as well that 
they did, for there was no alarm at first. 

As we entered the black and tan joint, I took an 
other long look at its forbidding exterior. Below, 
it was a saloon and dance hall; above, it was a 


*' hotel." It was weatherbeaten, dirty, and unsightly, 
without, except for the entrance; unsanitary, ram 
shackle, within, except for the tawdry decorations. 
At every window were awnings and all were down, 
although it was on the shady side of the street in 
the daytime and it was now getting late. That was 
the mute sign post to the initiated of the character 
of the place. 

Instead of turning downstairs where we had gone 
on our other visit, Kennedy led the way up through 
a door that read, " Hotel Entrance Office." 

A clerk at a desk in a little alcove on the second 
floor mechanically pushed out a register at us, then 
seeming to sense trouble, pulled it back quickly and 
with his foot gave a sharp kick at the door of a 
little safe, locking the combination. 

" I'm looking for someone," was all Kennedy said. 
" This is the District Attorney. We'll go 
through " 

"Yes, you will!" 

It was Ike the Dropper. He had heard the com 
motion, and, seeing ladies, came to the conclusion 
that it was not a police plainclothes raid, but some 
new game of the reformers. 

He stopped short in amazement at the sight of 
Dorgan and Ogleby. 

" Well I'll be " 

"Carton! Walter!" shouted Kennedy. "Take 
care of him. Watch out for a knife or gun. He's 
soft, though. Carton the whistle! " 

Our struggle with the redoubtable Ike was short 


and quickly over. Sullen, and with torn clothes and 
bleeding face, we held him until the policeman ar 
rived, and turned him over to the law. 

At a room on the same floor Craig knocked. 

" Come in," answered a woman's voice. 

He pushed open the door. There was the woman 
who had fled so precipitately from the dope joint. 

Evidently she did not recognize us. 

" You are under arrest," announced Kennedy. 

The blonde woman laughed mockingly. 

" Under arrest? For what? " 

" You are Marie Margot. Never mind about 
your alias. All the arts of your employees and Dr. 
Harris himself cannot change you so that I cannot 
recognize you. You may feel safe from the portrait 
parle, but there are other means of detection that 
you never dreamed of. Where is Betty Blackwell? 
Marie, it's all off!" 

All the brazen assurance with which she had met 
us was gone. She looked from one to the other 
and read that it was the end. With a shriek, she 
suddenly darted past us, out of the door. Down 
the hall was Ike the Dropper with the policeman 
and Carton. Beside her was a stairway leading to 
the upper floors. She chose the stairs. 

Following Kennedy we hurried through the hotel, 
from one dirty room to another, with their loose 
and creaking floors, rotten and filthy, sagging as 
we walked, covered with matting that was rotting 
away. Damp and unventilated, the air was heavy 
and filled with foul odours of tobacco, perfumery, 


and cheap disinfectants. There seemed to have 
been no attempt to keep the place clean. 

The rooms were small and separated by thin par 
titions through which conversations in even low tones 
could be heard. The furniture was cheap and worn 
with constant use. 

Downstairs we could hear the uproar as the news 
spread that the District Attorney was raiding the 
place. As fast as they could the sordid crowd in 
the dance hall and cabaret was disappearing. Now 
and then we could hear a door bang, a hasty con 
ference, and then silence as some of the inmates 
realized that upstairs all escape was cut off. 

On the top floor we came to a door, locked and 
bolted. With all the force that he could gather in 
the narrow hall, Kennedy catapulted himself against 
it. It yielded in its rottenness with a crash. 

A woman, in all her finery, lay across the foot of 
a bed, a formless heap. Kennedy turned her over. 
It was Marie, motionless, but still breathing faintly. 
In an armchair, with his hands hanging limply down 
almost to the floor, his head sagging forward on his 
chest, sprawled Harris. 

Kennedy picked up a little silver receptacle on the 
floor where it lay near his right hand. It was nearly 
empty, but as he looked from it quickly to the two 
insensible figures before us he muttered: "Mor 
phine. They have robbed the law of its punish 

He bent over the suicides, but it was too late to 
do anything for them. They had paid the price. 


" My heavens ! " he exclaimed suddenly, as a 
thought flashed over his mind. " I hope they have 
not carried the secret of Betty Blackwell with them 
to the grave. Where is Miss Kendall?" 

Down the hall, cut off from the rest of the hotel 
into a sort of private suite, Clare had entered one 
of the rooms and was bending over a pale, wan 
shadow of a girl, tossing restlessly on a bed. The 
room was scantily furnished with a dilapidated bu 
reau in one corner and a rickety washstand equipped 
with a dirty washbowl and pitcher. A few cheap 
chromos on the walls were the only decorations, and 
a small badly soiled rug covered a floor innocent for 
many years of soap. 

I looked sharply at the girl lying before us. Some 
how it did not occur to me who she was. She was so 
worn that anyone might safely have transported her 
through the streets and never have been questioned, 
in spite of the fact that every paper in the country 
which prints pictures had published her photograph, 
not once but many times. 

It was Betty Blackwell at last, struggling against 
the drugs that had been forced on her, half con 
scious, but with one firm and acute feeling left re 
sistance to the end. 

Kennedy had dropped on his knees before her 
and was examining her closely. 

" Open the windows more air," he ordered. 
" Walter, see if you can find some ice water and a 
little stimulant." 

While Craig was taking such restorative measures 


as were possible on the spur of the moment, Miss 
Kendall gently massaged her head and hands. 

She seemed to understand that she was in the 
hands of friends, and though she did not know us 
her mute look of thanks was touching. 

Don't get excited, my dear," breathed Miss Ken 
dall into her ear. " You will be all right soon." 

As the wronged girl relaxed from her constant 
tension of watching, it seemed as if she fell into a 
stupor. Now and then she moaned feebly, and 
words, half-formed, seemed to come to her lips only 
to die away. 

Suddenly she seemed to have a vision more vivid 
than the rest. 

" No no Mr. Ogleby leave me. Where 

my mother oh, where is mother?" she cried 
hysterically, sitting bolt upright and staring at us 
without seeing us. 

Kennedy passed the broad palm of his hand over 
her forehead and murmured, " There, there, you are 
all right now." Then he added to us : "I did not 
send for her mother because I wasn't sure that we 
might find her even as well as this. Will someone 
find Carton? Get the address and send a messenger 
for Mrs. Blackwell." 

Sybil was on her knees by the bedside of the girl, 
holding Betty's hand in both of her own. 

" You poor, poor girl," she cried softly. It is 

She had sunk her head into the worn and dirty 
covers of the bed. Kennedy reached over and took 


hold of her arm. " She will be all right, soon," he 
said reassuringly. " Miss Kendall will take good 
care of her." 

As we descended the stairs, we could see Carton 
at the foot. A patrol wagon had been backed up 
to the curb in front and the inmates of the place 
were being taken out, protesting violently at being 

Further down the hall, by the " office," Dorgan 
and Ogleby were storming, protesting that " influ 
ence " would " break " everyone concerned, from 
Carton down to the innocent patrolmen. 

Kennedy listened a moment, then turned to Clare 

" I will leave Miss Blackwell in your care," he 
said quietly. " It is on her we must rely to prove 
the contents of the Black Book." 

Clare nodded, as, with a clang, Carton drove off 
with his prisoners to see them safely entered on the 
" blotter." 

" Our work is over," remarked Kennedy, turning 
again to Miss Kendall, in a tone as if he might have 
said more, but refrained. 

Looking Craig frankly in the eye, she extended 
her hand in that same cordial straight-arm shake 
with which she had first greeted us, and added, 
" But not the memory of this fight we have won." 


IT was election night. Kennedy and Carton had 
arranged between them that we were all to re 
ceive the returns at the headquarters of the Reform 
League, where one of the papers which was par 
ticularly interested, had installed several special 

The polls had scarcely closed when Kennedy and 
I, who had voted early, if not often, in spite of our 
strenuous day, hastened up to the headquarters. Al 
ready it was a scene of activity. 

The first election district had come in, one on the 
lower East Side, which was a stronghold of Dorgan, 
where the count could be made quickly, for there 
were no split tickets there. Dorgan had drawn first 

" I hope it isn't an omen," smiled Carton, like a 
good sport. 

Kennedy smiled quietly. 

We looked about, but Miss Ashton was not there. 
I wondered why not and where she was. 

The first returns had scarcely begun to filter in, 
though, when Craig leaned over and whispered to 
me to go out and find her, either at her home, or if 



not there, at a woman's club of which she was one 
of the leading members. 

I found her at home and sent up my card. She 
had apparently lost interest in the election and it 
was with difficulty that I could persuade her to ac 
company me to the League headquarters. However, 
I argued the case with what ability I had and finally 
she consented. 

The other members of the Ashton family had mo 
nopolized the cars and we were obliged to take a 
taxicab. As our driver threaded his way slowly and 
carefully through the thronged streets it gave us 
a splendid chance to see some of the enthusiasm. 
I think it did Margaret Ashton good, too, to get out, 
instead of brooding over the events of the past few 
days, as she had seen them. Her heightened colour 
made her more attractive than ever. 

The excitement of any other night in the year 
paled to insignificance before this. 

Distracted crowds everywhere were cheering and 
blowing horns. Now a series of wild shouts broke 
forth from the dense mass of people before a news 
paper bulletin board. Now came sullen groans, 
hisses, and catcalls, or all together, with cheers, as 
the returns swung in another direction. Not even 
baseball could call out such a crowd as this. 

Enterprising newspapers had established places 
at which they flashed out the returns on huge sheets 
on every prominent corner. Some of them had 
bands, and moving pictures, and elaborate forms of 
entertainment for the crowds. 


Now and then, where the crowd was more than 
usually dense, we had to make a wide detour. Even 
the quieter streets seemed alive. On some boys had 
built huge bonfires from barrels and boxes that had 
been saved religiously for weeks or surreptitiously 
purloined from the grocer or the patient house 
holder. About the fires, they kept an ever watchful 
eye for the descent of their two sworn enemies 
the policeman and the rival gang privateering in the 
name of a hostile candidate. 

Boys with armfuls of newspapers were every 
where, selling news that in the rapid-fire change of 
the statistics seemed almost archeologically old. 

Lights blazed on every side. Automobiles honked 
and ground their gears. The lobster palaces, where 
for weeks, Francois, Carl, and William had been 
taking small treasury notes for tables reserved 
against the occasion, were thronged. In theatres 
people squirmed uneasily until the ends of acts, in 
order to listen to returns read from the stage before 
the curtain. Police were everywhere. People with 
horns, and bells, and all manner of noise-making de 
vices, with confetti and " ticklers " pushed up on one 
side of Broadway and down on the other. 

At every square they congested foot and vehicle 
traffic, as they paused ravenously to feed on the 
meagre bulletins of news. 

Yet back of all the noise and human energy, as a 
newspaperman, I could think only of the silent, sys 
tematic gathering and editing of the news, of the 
busy scenes that each journal's office presented, the 


haste, the excitement, the thrill in the very smell 
of the printer's ink. 

Miss Ashton, I was glad to note, as we proceeded 
downtown, fell more and more into the spirit of the 

High up in the League headquarters in the tower, 
when we arrived, it was almost like a newspaper 
office, to me. A corps of clerks was tabulating re 
turns, comparing official and semi-official reports. 
As first the city swung one way, then another, our 
hopes rose and fell. 

I could not help noticing, however, after a while 
that Miss Ashton seemed cold and ill at ease. There 
was such a crowd there of Leaguers and their friends 
that it was easily possible for her not to meet Car 
ton. But as I circulated about in the throng, I came 
upon him. Carton looked worried and was paying 
less attention to the returns than seemed natural. It 
was evident that, in spite of the crowd, she had 
avoided him and he hesitated to seek her out. 

There were so many things to think of thrusting 
themselves into one's attention that I could follow 
none consistently. First I found myself wondering 
about Carton and Miss Ashton. Before I knew it 
I was delivering a snap judgment on whether 
the uptown residence district returns would be 
large enough to overcome the hostile downtown 
vote. I was frankly amazed, now, to see how 
strongly the city as a whole was turning to the 
Reform League. 

A boy, pushing through the crowd, came upon 


Kennedy and myself, talking to Miss Ashton. He 
shoved a message quickly into Craig's hand and 

" For heaven's sake ! " he exclaimed as he tore 
open the envelope and read. " What do you think of 
that? My shadows report that Martin Ogleby has 
been arrested and his confession will be enough, with 
the Black Book and Betty Blackwell, to indict Dor- 
gan. Kahn has committed suicide ! Hartley Lang- 
horne has sailed for Paris on the French line, with 
Mrs. Ogleby!" 

"Mary Ogleby eloped?" repeated Miss Ash- 
ton, aghast. 

The very name seemed to call up unpleasant as 
sociations and her face plainly showed it. Kennedy 
had said nothing to her since the day when he had 
pleaded with her to suspend judgment. 

" By the way," he said in a low voice, leaning over 
toward her, " have you heard that those pictures 
of her were faked? It was really Dorgan, and some 
crook photographer cut out his face and substituted 
Carton's. We got the Black Book, this morning, 
too, and it tells the story of Mrs. Ogleby's misad 
ventures as well as a lot of much more important 
things. We got it from Mr. Murtha and " 

" Mr. Murtha? " she inquired, in surprise. 

" It is a secret, but I think I can violate it to 
a certain extent for Mr. Carton is a party to it 

Kennedy paused. He was speaking with the as 
surance of one who assumed that John Carton and 


Margaret Ashton had no secrets. She saw it, and 
coloured deeply. 

Then he lowered his voice further to a whisper 
and when he finished, her face was even a deeper 
scarlet. But her eyes had a brightness they had 
lacked for days. And I could see the emotion she 
felt as her slight form quivered with excitement. 

Kennedy excused himself and we worked our way 
through the press toward Carton. 

" Dorgan has lost his nerve ! " ejaculated Craig 
as we came up with him, watching district after dis 
trict which showed that the Boss's usual pluralities 
were being seriously reduced. 

" Lost his nerve? " repeated Carton. 

" Yes. I told him I would publish the whole 
affair of the photographs just as I knew it, not caring 
whom it hit. I advised him to read his revised 
statutes again about money in elections and I added 
the threat, ' There will be no " dough day " or it will 
be carried to the limit, Dorgan, and I will resurrect 
Murtha in an hour ! ' You should have seen his 
face I There was no dough day. That's what I 
meant when I said it was to be a fair fight. You 
see the effect on the returns." 

Carton was absolutely speechless. The tears 
stood in his eyes as he grasped Kennedy's hand, then 
swung around to me. 

A terrific cheer broke out among the clerks in the 
outer office. One of them rushed in with a still 
unblotted report. 

Kennedy seized it and read: 


" Dorgan concedes the city by a safe plurality to 
Carton, fifty-two election districts estimated. This 
clinches the Reform League victory." 

I turned to Carton. 

Behind us, through the crowd, had followed a 
young lady and now Carton had no ears for anything 
except the pretty apology of Margaret Ashton. 

Kennedy pulled me toward the door. 

" We might as well concede Miss Ashton to Car 
ton," he beamed. " Let's go out and watch the 


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